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goneawayworld2020-05-17 03:11 am
goneawaymod) wrote in goneawayworld2020-05-17 03:11 am
SHIFTING THE PARADIGM - ADVERSE RIG EVENT
SHIFTING THE PARADIGM
PLOT DESCRIPTION
To say that the New Hires are unlucky is something of an understatement. After all, they're here, aren't they? They were the unlucky ones swept out of their worlds, left unconscious for Jorgmund to find, "hired," implanted with shock collars. They were unlucky enough to get caught, and now they're being mega, double, septuple screwed by a casual backhand of fate.
The rig doesn't often face a full breach. It does today.
The announcements start with a tinny warning: "RED ALERT: SEVERE STUFF STORM COALESCING OFF STARBOARD SIDE. PREPARE FOR RIG TO COME TO FULL STOP."
Anyone near windows can see it on the side facing the Wilds, a roiling, thundering mass of gray clouds that look a little more liquid than normal clouds. Lightning crackles, illuminating it from within but the color of the lightning isn't just white or yellow. Each thundering crackle flashes in a prism of unnatural colors.
The rig comes to a stop. Since it was going so slow, there isn't much of a change in momentum but they can feel it in the vibration of the braking mechanisms and creaking and groaning of tons of metal suddenly facing some minor strain. The storm expands up to the top of the atmosphere, anvil-shaped, flattening against the tropopause.
"RED ALERT: SEVERE STUFF STORM COALESCING STARBOARD SIDE. PREPARE FOR POSSIBLE ADVERSE RIG EVENT. SHELTER IN QUARTERS AND OTHER SHIELDED AREAS. CHILD CARE STAFF, RELOCATE YOUR CHARGES TO NEAREST SHIELDED BUNKER. ALL STAFF, REPORT ANY UNREALITY EVENTS TO RIG COMMAND FROM THE NEAREST ALARM PHONE, AND FIND SHELTER UNTIL SECURITY TEAM IS DEPLOYED."
The Stuff storm slams into the rig, making it sway just slightly. The wind pouring through the gaps in the rig structure howls in a way that sounds like inhuman screams. Thanks to the Stuff visibility drops to a very gray 0%.
A prerecorded message now starts playing. Celeste Lillian, with her soothing voice, speaking mantras:
"Staff members and couriers of hope, in this stressful time, I remind you to pause, take a moment, and breathe so deeply your lungs cannot hold any more of our Mother Earth's air. Breathe in, breathe out. The act of breathing is so precious because it's both necessary and voluntary. It is a gift you give yourself. Value yourself enough to give yourself the gift of a full, honest, complete breath."
Super helpful, right?
"Clear your minds, let go of any thoughts. Remember: 'The ocean changes. I can float.'"
But all hell breaks loose and mantras won't do a thing to stop it. The rig's many ventilation shafts have filters and metal covers to help shield against stuff, but they aren't replaced as often as they should be. Inspections are thorough but some material resources are scarce.
Stuff breaks through the covers and ventilation filters, sweeps through the rig, and reality gets less real.
"RED ALERT: FULL BREACH. RED ALERT: FULL BREACH. RED ALERT: FULL BREACH..."
SCENARIO #1 - PRODUCTIVITY
The rig's staff instantly increases by several orders of magnitude. The new employees don't talk and for the most part they don't pay attention to anyone else. They mill through the hallways, gesturing to each other as if they're colleagues walking and talking about the last meeting as they move through the halls.
Most of them are in full professional dress, suits and ties. But sometimes this dress is from a variety of eras, hearkening back to the idea of business. That means a lot of power suits and shoulder pads, and even some old fashioned bow ties, top hats, and glittering gold pocketwatch chains. Here and there, sometimes there's even a glimpse of someone in older merchant's clothing, flashy in a way that suggests "people send me regular complaints on cuneiform tablets about how I sold them inferior copper ingots." The mystery executives despawn and respawn randomly, phasing in and out of existence. Sometimes two will spawn in the same spot, somehow superimposed, like a glitch in a video game, twitching helplessly until reality goes "whoops!" and phases them back out of existence.
They have no faces, but the way they sometimes randomly turn to face the New Hires, staring them down, body language wary, makes it clear they can somehow see or sense without eyes. They sometimes speak with no mouths but the sounds don't sound like real language, and are always muffled.
New office or meeting room doors start flickering in and out of existence. Each time one appears it draws the nearest New Hires in, warping the metal floor in front of them so every step draws them inexorably inward. Inside, the New Hires find themselves pinned by stares from nonexistent eyes, the drones expectant. Maybe even impatient.
They're late.
Each room has a different scenario that must be satisfied to make the room go away, all of them the subconscious corporate imaginings of rig executives and staff, fears and secret wishes and ambitious aspirations all rolled together. The drones watch the New Hires carefully to make sure they follow "corporate policy" and obey the rules of the scenario, their body language growing more and more aggressive and threatening the more they fight it. They will eventually attack if New Hires don't follow through. There's no such thing as simply reporting someone to HR in their (nonexistent) eyes.
When each scenario is forced to completion by the New Hires playing ball until conditions are satisfied, the drones...dissolve. Trees suddenly sprout through their clothes, then flower. The petals scatter through a sudden breeze that always smells of grass and leaves and wet plants and gentle rains.
Finally free.
PROMPTS
a) resource management
The room has a table and chairs at the front. It's stacked with piles of unsharpened pencils and several electric or manual pencil sharpeners. The table looks out on rows of chairs, filled with faceless drones.
Watching... waiting...
Every time you finish sharpening a pencil there's light applause. It's a big pile of pencils, but at least it's an easy task. The drones don't seem to mind if you talk to break up the monotony.
Like so much of corporate life? Thrilling.
b) flipping through the deck
Have you ever had a nightmare where you had to do an oral test in front of the class that you weren't prepared for? Now imagine one where your teacher and classmates will beat you senseless if you get it wrong.
The slideshow being shown on the smartboard is completely nonsensical. That means the presentation can be just as nonsensical. New Hires can work together to bullshit on any topic, or maybe even just spout total nonsense. Either way, the drones around the conference table occasionally offer light applause and then turn to each other to confab in their nonsense mutterings, before turning back to watch once more.
When the meeting is perceived to be over, the drones stand, lightly clap, and flower.
Sometimes in rooms like this the drones hand over a list of corporate buzzwords that must be included, but they don't seem to care if it's in context.
Buzzwords: Break down the silos, tee it up, paradigm shift, low-hanging fruit, move the needle, run it up the flagpole, on the bleeding edge, synergy, core competency, leverage.
c) on the spot improvisation
Similar to the other presentation rooms except...
Oh, these are actual Jorgmund executives. The door sucked you into a normal meeting that they're cheerfully having despite the Stuff breach. They ask you your opinions on improving rig operations and quality of life and expect you to give honest answers.
But not too honest.
d) you've got some splainin' to do
You're handed hair nets and aprons and glared at until you put them on. The room is a small room in a factory line, with a conveyor belt passing through. The drone that henpecked you into putting on the aprons holds up a chocolate, points to the aperture the chocolates go through at the end of the conveyor belt, and shakes her head furiously. Then she wraps the chocolate in one of the wrappers from a stack of them, points back to the aperture and nods.
The garbled nonsense she "says" doesn't communicate it, but the gestures do: Wrapped chocolates go through, unwrapped ones don't.
Once the New Hires are in place in the conveyor line, the drone smacks a hand twice against the wall and the conveyor belt starts. Fortunately the drone leaves, but now the New Hires have chocolates they have to wrap, and they have to wrap them quickly.
The line is fast but not impossible. It's still a scramble and chocolate might have to be shoved in their hats and clothes to keep the drone from coming back and getting angry. Fortunately, you only have to reach a quote of 100 (as stated by a helpful sign on the wall) before the room spits you back out - sticky and smeared with chocolate - and fades away.
One perk: the chocolate won't disappear, but it's definitely some waxy, cheap stuff and sometimes the filling is a flavor that doesn't really pair well with chocolate.
e) the it crowd
You're led to desk with computers that don't actually work. Only nonsense words and memes (and nonsense memes) show up on the screens. That's fine because the people calling in on the phones are real people on the rig, trying to work despite the Stuff storm because of Company Loyalty™, and that means their problems are real stupid. Even laymen might be able to guide them through it.
They may include questions about the "cupholder," them not realizing the monitor has to be turned on, and issues easily resolved by a restart. Since the calls are real, there's a chance you can use some good old fashioned psychological engineering to gain useful things like usernames an passwords.
The drones don't seem to care if you chat among yourselves between calls, confer with one another (or mock the caller) while the phone is on mute, or whether the advice is even good. They only care that it's given. After a seemingly random quota is met, the drones expire, and room spits you back out and disappears. You'll find you have a small rubber duck in your pocket after you're spit back out again.
The ducks seem to not do anything. Yet.
Players can request the mods come up with idiotic IT issues for their thread.
f) breaking the ice
What is with this place's obsession with never-ending icebreakers?
This time it's less optional. You're are forced to sit in chairs across from each other or in a ring if more than two of you are pulled in. A sign on a small table between you says "2 truths, 1 lie" or "Truth or truth" (The drones seem to have forgotten the dare part). But sometimes a different game (of players' choosing) is displayed. The drones can seemingly sense whenever New Hires are lying and their behavior starts to grow hostile if they do, relaxing when they tell the truth.
The room won't release New Hires until there's been enough growth or honesty equivalent to a life-changing field trip.
g) corporate (property) restructuring
The drones are based on the thoughts of employees and that means the things they dream of doing, like taking a bat and going ham on a printer-copier. When you're pulled into a nonexistent department you're handed baseball bats and pointed at various pieces of office equipment.
The hostile language of the suited drones - also with their own baseball bats - means it would be wise for you to direct your un-vented frustrations at the equipment. All of it.
Or the drones might vent their aggression - with bats - at you. At least smashing shit up with a buddy - old or new - is cathartic? And that baseball bat can maybe be tucked away in a hideyhole somewhere for later use.
h) staring at the camera like...
This room is a small office space with chairs against a wall that has a window with closed blinds. The drones have a professional looking camera set up, pointing at the chairs, like it's some kind of confessional. These drones look more like the crew of a documentary than the other office drones, but have the same blank faces.
They gesture for the New Hires to sit down and hold up a paper that says: "Tell us how you really feel about this place and your fellow employees."
It's not like the drones are Jorgmund employees so maybe it's a safe place to let loose and have a vent session with a fellow New Hire? Interacting with each other during the vent gets nods of approval from the directors and crew. Trashing Jorgmund? Gets even more approval. They're loving that chemistry, guys.
i) wild card
Have a scenario idea that we haven't thought of? Go crazy! Pick some weird corporate scenario to play around with. The Stuff has plenty to work with thanks to the anxieties of the real corporate drones working for Jorgmund, and also because of all the office-related TV and movies they consume.
The room has a table and chairs at the front. It's stacked with piles of unsharpened pencils and several electric or manual pencil sharpeners. The table looks out on rows of chairs, filled with faceless drones.
Watching... waiting...
Every time you finish sharpening a pencil there's light applause. It's a big pile of pencils, but at least it's an easy task. The drones don't seem to mind if you talk to break up the monotony.
Like so much of corporate life? Thrilling.
b) flipping through the deck
Have you ever had a nightmare where you had to do an oral test in front of the class that you weren't prepared for? Now imagine one where your teacher and classmates will beat you senseless if you get it wrong.
The slideshow being shown on the smartboard is completely nonsensical. That means the presentation can be just as nonsensical. New Hires can work together to bullshit on any topic, or maybe even just spout total nonsense. Either way, the drones around the conference table occasionally offer light applause and then turn to each other to confab in their nonsense mutterings, before turning back to watch once more.
When the meeting is perceived to be over, the drones stand, lightly clap, and flower.
Sometimes in rooms like this the drones hand over a list of corporate buzzwords that must be included, but they don't seem to care if it's in context.
Buzzwords: Break down the silos, tee it up, paradigm shift, low-hanging fruit, move the needle, run it up the flagpole, on the bleeding edge, synergy, core competency, leverage.
c) on the spot improvisation
Similar to the other presentation rooms except...
Oh, these are actual Jorgmund executives. The door sucked you into a normal meeting that they're cheerfully having despite the Stuff breach. They ask you your opinions on improving rig operations and quality of life and expect you to give honest answers.
But not too honest.
d) you've got some splainin' to do
You're handed hair nets and aprons and glared at until you put them on. The room is a small room in a factory line, with a conveyor belt passing through. The drone that henpecked you into putting on the aprons holds up a chocolate, points to the aperture the chocolates go through at the end of the conveyor belt, and shakes her head furiously. Then she wraps the chocolate in one of the wrappers from a stack of them, points back to the aperture and nods.
The garbled nonsense she "says" doesn't communicate it, but the gestures do: Wrapped chocolates go through, unwrapped ones don't.
Once the New Hires are in place in the conveyor line, the drone smacks a hand twice against the wall and the conveyor belt starts. Fortunately the drone leaves, but now the New Hires have chocolates they have to wrap, and they have to wrap them quickly.
The line is fast but not impossible. It's still a scramble and chocolate might have to be shoved in their hats and clothes to keep the drone from coming back and getting angry. Fortunately, you only have to reach a quote of 100 (as stated by a helpful sign on the wall) before the room spits you back out - sticky and smeared with chocolate - and fades away.
One perk: the chocolate won't disappear, but it's definitely some waxy, cheap stuff and sometimes the filling is a flavor that doesn't really pair well with chocolate.
e) the it crowd
You're led to desk with computers that don't actually work. Only nonsense words and memes (and nonsense memes) show up on the screens. That's fine because the people calling in on the phones are real people on the rig, trying to work despite the Stuff storm because of Company Loyalty™, and that means their problems are real stupid. Even laymen might be able to guide them through it.
They may include questions about the "cupholder," them not realizing the monitor has to be turned on, and issues easily resolved by a restart. Since the calls are real, there's a chance you can use some good old fashioned psychological engineering to gain useful things like usernames an passwords.
The drones don't seem to care if you chat among yourselves between calls, confer with one another (or mock the caller) while the phone is on mute, or whether the advice is even good. They only care that it's given. After a seemingly random quota is met, the drones expire, and room spits you back out and disappears. You'll find you have a small rubber duck in your pocket after you're spit back out again.
The ducks seem to not do anything. Yet.
Players can request the mods come up with idiotic IT issues for their thread.
f) breaking the ice
What is with this place's obsession with never-ending icebreakers?
This time it's less optional. You're are forced to sit in chairs across from each other or in a ring if more than two of you are pulled in. A sign on a small table between you says "2 truths, 1 lie" or "Truth or truth" (The drones seem to have forgotten the dare part). But sometimes a different game (of players' choosing) is displayed. The drones can seemingly sense whenever New Hires are lying and their behavior starts to grow hostile if they do, relaxing when they tell the truth.
The room won't release New Hires until there's been enough growth or honesty equivalent to a life-changing field trip.
g) corporate (property) restructuring
The drones are based on the thoughts of employees and that means the things they dream of doing, like taking a bat and going ham on a printer-copier. When you're pulled into a nonexistent department you're handed baseball bats and pointed at various pieces of office equipment.
The hostile language of the suited drones - also with their own baseball bats - means it would be wise for you to direct your un-vented frustrations at the equipment. All of it.
Or the drones might vent their aggression - with bats - at you. At least smashing shit up with a buddy - old or new - is cathartic? And that baseball bat can maybe be tucked away in a hideyhole somewhere for later use.
h) staring at the camera like...
This room is a small office space with chairs against a wall that has a window with closed blinds. The drones have a professional looking camera set up, pointing at the chairs, like it's some kind of confessional. These drones look more like the crew of a documentary than the other office drones, but have the same blank faces.
They gesture for the New Hires to sit down and hold up a paper that says: "Tell us how you really feel about this place and your fellow employees."
It's not like the drones are Jorgmund employees so maybe it's a safe place to let loose and have a vent session with a fellow New Hire? Interacting with each other during the vent gets nods of approval from the directors and crew. Trashing Jorgmund? Gets even more approval. They're loving that chemistry, guys.
i) wild card
Have a scenario idea that we haven't thought of? Go crazy! Pick some weird corporate scenario to play around with. The Stuff has plenty to work with thanks to the anxieties of the real corporate drones working for Jorgmund, and also because of all the office-related TV and movies they consume.
SCENARIO #2 - VIOLENCE
Some beings created by Stuff are alive and/or sentient. These are the New, but the drones are not New. They don't think and are therefore unable to reify the occasional wisp of stuff around the rig. They're more like programs in the computer of reality or like animations set into motion by the minds animating them.
But even if they're not alive, they are dangerous. They have no brains, no vital organs, no easy way to kill them. Since you need a thick skin to survive corporate life, it's very hard to break through their skin. When this finally occurs they start bleeding odd substances and objects. Cyan, magenta, yellow, and black printer ink. Paper clips. Sometimes it's thumb tacks, which makes walking and fighting very fraught. Go down even once and you might have a butt or back full of them.
No matter how much they bleed, however, they don't deflate or bleed to death. Only total destruction or dismemberment can slow them down. Fortunately, how much it takes to damage them seems to always be magically scaled to what the New Hires in the room are capable of.
That means it's somewhat unwise to fight them but it's at least not impossible. New Hires that want to try will be given their weapons and gear if they manage to make their way down to the armory near the training room. While New Hires will be hunted down later if they don't return most weapons and specific gear items, the chaos means some of the more disposable items - grenades, arrows, throwing knives - might possibly be tucked away somewhere without notice. For later. Excuses can be made about their use or loss, after all.
Players that know ahead of a time they want a fight scenario can always list one of the other scenarios above and note their preference for combat.
Since New Hires will have to go to the armory to get equipped, they can also have some threads with weapons and others without, to suit player needs.
➤ Finite threat: While the doors can open anywhere and suck anyone in, the total number of rooms that need to be eliminated is finite. This means the New Hires clearing them out can eventually shut them all to avoid permanent, perilous addition to the rig's reality. They'll notice the number of doors that flash in and out of existence decreasing the more they go through scenarios.
➤ Opt out: Players may opt out of the plot by having it so New Hires mysteriously find their room door locked and impossible to open, even by force. Or players can make use of the "alternate reality" mechanic, where the characters are shifted temporarily into a calmer, alternate version of the timeline where they have a normal, quiet rig day. That band of possible reality will collapse and fold them back into the main rig reality when the event is over. This means if players want to completely ignore the event and work on their old threads, they don't even have to come up with a handwave. Their character might just be a little confused and need to be filled in when the event is over and reality folds them back in.
➤ NPC request: If you'd like the mods to npc a stupid IT call in a thread, hit the thread below and link to where they should come in.
➤ Questions: If you have questions about the event, want to know what your characters can get away with during the chaos, want to know if your characters can squirrel away secure info or grenades etc., feel free to hit the questions comment below to make your requests.
no subject
SO, documents need to be secure, right? So we're goign to talk about how you can use-
[ She squints at the card. ]
-triple-redundancy firewall technology to keep them safe from, uh, corporate... espionage?
[ She looks at Alloran and shrugs helplessly. ]
I don't know! This place is weird...!
no subject
He's not equipped to sigh but there's the impression that he would if he was.]
<It is. I suppose I'll morph human so that they can hear me. Try not to look. It won't hurt anything, but it takes a minute or so and is very unpleasant to watch. Meanwhile - you could bring up past breaches and decry someone or other for letting them happen.>
[Alloran's stalk eyes go limp and start to roll into his head as his whole body starts to shrink. This doesn't get as awful as it can, but he wasn't kidding about it being unpleasant to watch. The drones stop looking his way. It's probably because he's not up at the front and they don't perceive him as speaking so their attention is on Adora again, but it does almost give the impression that they can't stand to look at him.]
no subject
Oh, that's horrifying. Adora keeps trying to talk, but her eyes on locked on Alloran's whole shape-changing thing instead. So she mostly spews gibberish about document retention as she tries to tear her gaze away.
She does not succeed in looking away.
Ew. ]
no subject
Instead of the smaller, unremarkable human morph Alloran's been using, he's morphed the man who was the White House chief of protocol when the Yeerks tried taking advantage of an international summit. Honestly, he looks like he'd blend in with the Rig execs. The main difference is one that a few seconds ago he was some kind of writhing nightmare, and two that he's in black socks, a tight gray shirt, and knee-length boxer briefs, showing a great profusion of ginger hair on bared arms and legs.
Alloran adjusts the set of his newly-grown jaw before using it. The voice he uses through this morph speaks with the same cadence as his thought-speech and a similar flat near-monotone, but it sounds different enough to be a little jarring.]
All right. I believe my esteemed colleague, while well-researched and well known in the field, doesn't have my background in security and its pitfalls. It's an acknowledged issue that truly advanced security runs the risk of being user-unfriendly and unwieldy.
no subject
Uh, yes. I'll let my - uh - friend? Yes. He'll take over for a bit.
no subject
[He talks on for a bit - probably not as much jargon as he could use, consequently it's a little more comprehensible as he talks around the countermeasures a base with significant traffic in and out has had to take against infiltrators and saboteurs interested in information. The standards of the Empire and Visserichal mandates come up, and he does stumble over that word.
The drones listen and don't appear impatient, but also not inspired. Alloran pauses, starting to frown. His voice has gotten rougher.]
My throat's starting to register pain. Your bodies are... frustrating.
no subject
Hold on-
[ There's complementary tiny bottles of water. She twists the cap off and offers one to him. ]
Here. You need to drink.
no subject
Oh. Yes. My thanks.
[He drinks while commenting in thought-speech, I forgot that that was a problem. Humans do very well, considering this limitation.]
They don't seem to hear me speak. Perhaps singing is different. Would you trade off for a minute?
[If she does, Alloran will start to put out a sort of feeling, a wave of confidence and importance, almost tangible. Like a light's come on in a gloomy room, it seems to change the space. The drones lean in unison, the actual content of what they're hearing made unimportant.]
no subject
Singing? You think... singing will-?
[ She blinks and then turns back to the drones, per his request. She's not nearly as polished as he is. In fact, a lot of her stuff is stumbling over buzzwords and just spewing out whatever comes to mind. But the 'singing' does seem to genuinely help, because the drones seem to appreciate this part of the presentation much more. ]
...what is that? [ She asks after a moment. ]
no subject
<I told you, I wanted to try singing. I suppose that's a good enough translation. A voice, not used for speaking.>
[He ramps it up. It is tangible, at this point, like strong sunlight, or unheard music resonating. For a moment there's an impression that he's the most important person in the room, something radiating power and fascination and just a lurking edge of menace. The drones eat that up, seeming energized even as it ebbs back a bit.]
no subject
[ And she launches back into another slightly awkward spiel that basically means nothing. Thanks to the singing, though, the drones seem incredibly enthusiastic about it. They even give her a round of applause. ]
...do you think that's enough?
no subject
[He says that one out loud. A drone wipes its face as if tearing up - and there is water there, actually. The round of applause doesn't seem to be ending, drones are standing to clap and becoming... bristly? as twigs grow out of them and bud and bloom.
The clapping becomes like the pattering of rain and tapers off, and now there's just scattered petals blowing in a warm breeze. Water and bits of plant matter are all that's left.
Alloran is taken aback, his 'song' fading. The smell of soil and growing things is too familiar.]
no subject
[ Adora just stares in wide-eyed fascination as the drones begin to bloom and turn into small little plants and leaves and petals go scattering around the room. This reminds her a lot of Perfuma's magic, but very different from what she's used to. Perfuma doesn't turn people into plants, after all. ]
...I guess we are done.
no subject
Alloran feels the extremely human impulse to scratch his head, and follows it.]
It seems like much more effort than killing them.
no subject
[ Shrug? They're not overtly threatening, right? ]
I'm Adora, by the way.
no subject
[He mirrors the shrug in a very awkward way. It's weird having bulky, hypermobile human shoulders.]
Alloran-Semitur-Corrass. Just Alloran. I am not actually one with faith in empires, but I've witnessed far too many meetings.
no subject
[ She shrugs a little helplessly. ]
How do you do that... changing thing? Which was kinda gross. But cool.
no subject
It is gross. And may be 'cool'. If it helps, it doesn't actually hurt, only seems like it should.
no subject
[ She glances up and down the hall, trying to avoid drones and the possibility of getting shuffled into another room or meeting. ]
Uh. What's DNA?
[ Sorry, Alloran. ]
no subject
'Genetic essence' doesn't cut it, I suppose? All living things carry instructive patterns in them. Something in a... newly conceived thing can read the pattern and builds its body to grow accordingly, as best it can. Your DNA told you to grow two eyes and ten fingers. Mine told me four eyes and fourteen.
With morphing I can rearrange myself to someone else's specifications.
no subject
[ That does make sense. Thankfully he didn't try to get into the whole cellular breakdown. ]
You're a little bit like Double Trouble, I guess... they're a lot less messy about it, though. No offense.