SHIFTING THE PARADIGM - ADVERSE RIG EVENT

[goneawaymod]

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.

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.

OOC DETAILS
➤ 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.

Comments

[wheyoftheadept]

"Watch it!" Saturday whips around and beheads a drone with two hard hacks to each shoulder. "Hate these damn things - "

She's buying time and space for Adora to get her footing; what she's not seeing is the drone behind her isn't fully dismembered. Its featureless fingers are twitching towards her ankle, and when she dodges backwards before her next attack she places herself within reach.

[princesspower]

"Why do they have to be so disgusting-" Adora mutters as she gets back to her feet. She's moving again, despite the poor footing. She spots the drone just behind Saturday and just as her companion steps back, she jumps forward and stomps on the damn thing with the heel of her boot, teeth gritted.

"I am going to need to take so many showers..."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Well, good thing we got a lot of 'em." Saturday kicks a drone in the face. It drops. "I think that might be the last of 'em, for now. Don't see any of those doors around, they musta wandered up from somewhere else."

[princesspower]

"Hopefully they're not in the stairwell..." Adora grumbles and dashes for the door. She pulls it open and dashes inside, peering over the stair railing. Fortunately the lights aren't out, so she can actually see.

"Looks clear so far-"

[wheyoftheadept]

"Good!" Saturday vaults over the landing and lands on flight below. A passel of drones pile up behind her, caught by the railing. "Cause there's more of them!"

They're flooding the enclosed space, chattering about TPS reports and metrics, reeking of industrial bleach and powdered non-dairy creamer. Saturday whips around to the next flight, and -

"Aw, fuck me."

There's more of them, pouring upwards. Catching the two in the stairwell.

[princesspower]

"What-?" Adora starts to ask, but then she sees them. She stares for a long moment and then her eyes narrow.

"Let's go."

Adora just wades in, fighting down the stairwell. The first drone she reaches gets's pitched over the stair railing and goes rattling down. Adora doesn't know how far it is and she's not sure she cares. The next gets a solid kick in the chest, pitching it back into its fellows.

She's getting through, come hell or high water.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday nods, and plunges in after her. Well, not directly after her; she flips over the railing and swings around, slamming a drone in the head hard enough to rip it off its shoulders as she vaults back over to the landing below Adora. The drones swarm her. She parries until her back is at the wall, and then she really lets loose.

Her arms are a blur, and her strikes are undetectable. A drone reaches for her but she's already ducking, moving under him; she surges up with her blade through his spine and bowls him into another two drones. They fall backward down the railing.

"Well, at least there's no sheetcake!" she calls cheerfully up to Adora, before blocking another drone's fist.

[princesspower]

Adora is impressed, honestly. She considers herself a good fighter, but Saturday's putting on a hell of a show. She starts to work toward her through the crowd. There's a blur of kicks, punches, body throws, as she moves. Fortunately, the drones seem to be uncoordinated fighters for the most part, there's just a lot of them.

"The sheetcake was tougher-" Adora grunts back as she finally makes it over to Saturday. better than being separated.

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yes, but there wasn't so much of it. And there wasn't even a chance of fun!" On that note, she donkey-kicks a drone coming up behind her, without looking. It hits the target dead-on, sending the drone flying back into the crowd and buying Saturday enough space to pivot and strike.

"They're clearing out - wanna run for it?"

[princesspower]

"Let's go!" Adora agrees without much of a second though and she makes a break, dodging through an opening in the crowd for the next landing. That should be the door into the next hallway. She elbows a drone out of the way and yanks it open.

Beyond it is a hallway.

And many drones.

"Uh. Woops?"

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday groans.

"Get behind me!" she shouts, and the plunges into the crowd like a weedwhacker in a dandelion field. Rather literally, too; she's holding nothing back, and gets four blows for each one the drones manage to land. They surge forward, then back as she mauls them, snarling. Her eyes are bright with a horrible joy, the kind that's a little unnerving even when it's on your side.

"EAT SHIT!" she screams, and even the mindless corporate drones seem a little shaken.

[princesspower]

Whoa.

Adora would like to get stuck in, but she also doesn't want to get nailed accidentally by Saturday, so she follows in her wake picking up the stragglers and making sure none of them attack Saturday while her back is turned. There's definitely something a little disturbing about it... but she can't really fault her. She's pretty fed up herself.

"Next left, I think?"

She calls out over the noise, hoping they can somehow stay coordinated.

[wheyoftheadept]

"Understood!" Saturday hasn't truly gone beserk, although she is deep in the flow. The enemy reaches for her, grasping, but she's fresh and itching for a fight - has been for days now - and they are so, so slow compared to her. On a straight fight through a wide hall? No friggin contest.

She skewers a drone. Tacks suspended in some kind of putty glorp out over her blade.

"Take the left! I'll cover you!"

The drones chitter at her, surging forward and then back as if driven to fight against their will. Saturday snarls and holds them off.

[princesspower]

Saturday is pretty damn amazing in a fight and Adora shoots her one more glance as she darts toward the armor door and throws a jab into the face of a drone that tries to get at her. It staggers back and she follows up with a firm kick to the midsection before she turns to the door and drags it open.

"Door's open! Come on!"

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday roars at the drones one last time, a wide sweep of her blade driving the mob back, then dives through the door into a roll and comes up ready for whatever the hell is in here -

Oh. They made it.

"Aiya," Saturday mutters, straightening and beginning to clean her sword with a spare handful of loose jumpsuits. "I'm never gonna get this putty shit off - "

[princesspower]

Adora slams the door shut behind Saturday and wipes her brow. Phew. Time to get armed up. She starts going through the racks of weapons, looking for something she thinks she can use.

"You were amazing out there," she shoots over at her with a tense grin, "Pretty impressive."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Thanks." Saturday is working grimly at her sword, determined to clean it off as best she can. The putty is already starting to dry and harden. "Not bad, yourself - you think they go any rubbing alcohol around here?"

[princesspower]

"Doubt it, it's an armory, not a medical bay..." Adora frowns as she starts looking through cabinets and shelves. It's an impressive collection, but she's not exactly sure how its organized.

"Is that stuff sticking to your sword?"

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yeah, it's drying up, too." Saturday is picking at it with her nails. "It'll come off once I stow him but... feels wrong, putting a weapon away dirty."

She waves at Adora, dropping down to sit as she keeps working at her blade. "Don't worry about me."

[princesspower]

"If you insist..." Adora doesn't sound all that sure about 'not worrying' about her, but she's still worried about all the drones outside. Rather than grabbing a firearm, she settles on a staff - balance and blunt and with some reach. She turns back to Saturday, twirling it.

"I think this'll have to do."

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday looks up briefly. "Looks good. I'd grab armor, too, these jumpsuits don't protect shit."

Then, with an irritated huff, she sheathes her blade. Which she does by thrusting it directly into her metal right arm; the metal parts, organic and woundlike, to receive it.

"Sorry, 'Ni-chan," she murmurs, still holding the hilt, and then pulls the blade back out. It comes out clean and shining; a wad of hard putty is expelled shortly after. Saturday puts it in the garbage.

[princesspower]

"Do they have armor?" Adora seems a little unsure, but she dives back into the lockers and rows of equipment, searching for something that will offer better protection than a cloth jumpsuit. She glances back in time to watch Saturday 'clean' her sword.

"Does your sword talk to you?"

[wheyoftheadept]

"...sometimes." Saturday straightens and join Adora looking for armor. "It's complicated - magic and stuff. Hey, what's this - "

She bends down and scrabbles around in a container.

"Hoi, ballistic vests. Better'n nothing..."

[princesspower]

"That's armor?" Adora arches an eyebrow as she leans over. She's used to the Horde stuff (or Bright Moon's), which are usually hard plates.

"It looks soft."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yeah, it's a gel, kinda, see?" She pulls out the vest and starts strapping it on. "Like so... doesn't stop the bullet so much as slow it down. It'll knock the wind outta you, but better that then ribs blown out your back, hey?"

She offers one to Adora. "You know a lot about magic swords?" she asks, very casually.