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

[fromfryingpantofire]

That makes him snort. "It's not that old."

Of course, he doesn't know WHEN she's from, either. Though he gets a feeling it might be a bit in front of him.

He hums, watching the phone go sailing. "A little bit. Nothing in this sort of...mass. But the idea of things taking on specific shape from belief? Ran into it a couple of times. There's a thing called a tulpa in my world. It takes on characteristics from what people believe of it, which was a problem because this one was found in a cabin that a couple of guys had made a website for and spun stories about. It was not a fun case."

[wheyoftheadept]

"We had stuff like that like a hundred years ago where I'm from," she says, hefting her bat and starting on some big, bulky thing almost as tall as she is. It's got some sort of tray on top and a glass display.

(It's a copy/print/fax machine, one of the big old ones)

"I've never heard of a tulpa. It sounds about right though - except this is bigger. It's definitely some kind of astral stuff. They use tech to get at it, but there's magic involved here." She says this with the certainty of experience. "I wish Scylla were here - oh, well. You see that post by Quaestor?"

They're in a pocket reality and the camaeras don't work anyway. She's not ready to cop to her anon handle yet, but it's worth bringing up.

"That noosphere stuff?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I did." He steps aside to let her have first swing, if she wants it. "I'm pretty sure I understood everything that was being said, which is why I likened it to the tulpa. Though this looks to be a lot more advanced. Even belief can't give a tulpa sapience."

Which, as Quaestor had pointed out, was something that COULD happen with the Stuff outside. "I didn't have anything to add to the conversation, so I've been ruminating on it, for the most part."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yeah, same here." In the spirit of scientific enquiry, Saturday sees if she can beat the tray til it falls off the big boxy machine. She can! "But I was thinking more about the - consciousness as a physical force, what sounded like a sciencey way of getting at magic? Thing is, that's - not possible, according to how my world understands it. Magic and tech not getting along too great is one of the big unsolvables for us - the first person who cracks essence and figures out how to marry the two is basically gonna take over the world, assuming it's possible."

She kicks the box til it pops a paper tray open, then beats that tray off.

"If this world's an example of what that can lead to..."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Then it's a really bad idea to crack it." He can put that much together himself.

Sam waits until she moves aside before taking a swing at the copier as well, giving the body a good crack in the chassis. "Different rules for different worlds, maybe. It could be connected to magic here. Or whatever this world's brand of magic could be." He pauses, frowning. "I mean. You DO get some talk from the woo-woo sorts about how magic is all about intent and what you make of it. The seven-fold rule, things like that." A quick shrug. "That's never been my experience with magic, but I know my experience is fairly limited."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Well, sure, but all worlds are connected, aren't they? At least we're seeing that here, an' we know about metaplanes where I'm from - other realities. The rules are different, but the ingredients are the same even if some have less of one thing or more of another, or like, one's got chocolate chips and the other has raspberries."

That was a metaphor, certainly.

"Dunno what a seven-fold rule is, but what magic is, is the application of the practitioner's will to the world. Living things have essence, which is sort of your soul but less complicated, and essence lets magic exist. No life, no magic. No will, no magic spells. Anyone can Awaken and be able to do it - not everyone does, but - that's because of some complicated stuff about my world being out of balance. If it was in balance, anyone and everyone could do magic to some degree. Which sounds a lot like how the Brainy described the noosphere working. Consciousness as physical force, or something like that."

Leaning on her bat while Sam works is getting her frowned at, so she starts whaling on the thing from the other side.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Seven-fold rule is a thing certain strains of magic...not quite practitioners, but..." His own frown deepens as he looked for the words. "They follow particular rules when it comes to magic, for all that I'm not certain that it entirely works for them. But the rule says that whatever you put out into the world will be returned to you seven-fold. So if you use your abilities to make good things happen, more good will come back to you. If you use it in terrible ways?"

Well, it's pretty obvious where that line of thought goes.

Sam swings again, giving it another crack. "I THINK that most people could actually do magic in my world if they wanted to. Back home, it's about ninety percent ritual and knowing the right things to put together and the right words to say. And intent, of course." Another moment of thought and another swing. "I suppose exorcisms are a type of magic, in their own way, at least. Imposing your will on a ghost or demon in order to get them to vacate the premises, as it were."

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday furrows her brow, thinks about it, shrugs. "Be nice if it worked that way for us. Sounds like they're a school? A group of Awakened who all agree on how they use magic and what it means to 'em, sort of thing. As far as I know, though, magic doesn't take sides that way, makin' sure people get what's coming to them and the like."

If it did, Saturday wouldn't be in any of her current messes. She watches him put a few more cracks in.

"Sounds like a banishment? Spirits are a thing where I'm from, you summon them to do things and then send 'em along, and if the other guy does it too you banish his before they fuck up the run. 'Less you don't have anyone who can handle spirits, then you're fucked."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I think it's more of a philosophy rather than a school." Which was, really, as close as Sam has ever gotten to really trying to understand Wiccans. He knows a little bit about them, but there hasn't been a reason to need to know more. If there ever was, at least he knew he could figure it out.

He waggles his hand back of forth. "We do deal with spirits, mostly ghosts of people who haven't moved on. Ghosts in my world get really dangerous if they stay on our plane of existence. Then we have to find out what they're tethered to, then salt and burn that to release the spirit." Another swing of the bat and a large chunk of casing fell off. "Demons are different, though. Most of them used to be human, but a lot of them made deals for...something. Power or fame are the most popular ones, but some give up their souls for the life and safety of others. People do it for a lot of reasons. But it means that demons have a lot more oomph than your standard spirit. And, as such, usually a lot harder to deal with."

[wheyoftheadept]

"No, schools are philosophies. Like it's the same thing, your school is how you approach magic and stuff. Like my friend is a chaos magician and kind of a universalist, which means she thinks there's like..."

Saturday has to pause for a moment, genuinely thinking. Partly because she didn't pay attention to a lot of it, but also because Maggie isn't here to speak for herself.

"Specifically she believes in Unified Magic Theory," Saturday starts again. "Which is the idea that magic is magic is magic; it's the same code being manipulated, just with different tools like... uh, computer language is how she put it? Like there's a bunch of different programming languages and you use what works but it's all doing the same thing. But with reality instead of machines."

Saturday shrugs and thrusts her bat into the innards the fallen casing reveals. She has a fun time doing that for a while, smashing mysterious mechanical bits.

"Demons are basically just another kind of spirit, where I'm from. Spirits are like - they're not ghosts, they're just, you know, part of the world and stuff. Spirits of man, and uh, spider spirits, air spirits, water, that kind of things. They can go toxic, but that's not being evil, it's more like being really sick. I think." She tilts her head, frowning. "People make bargains with spirits for stuff and sometime they're harmful or dangerous, but getting taken over like that sounds like - a different kind of enemy."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Right."

Sam pulls back, letting her have at it because he needs to process this and he's not always good at processing and doing things like this. If he had the running track in the gym, sure, that wouldn't be a problem. Swinging like this doesn't help him work things out.

"Okay, yeah, a lot of that makes sense. And I kinda wish your friend was here because she sounds like the kind of person I'd get on well with. And this could be a fascinating conversation."

But he can tell that Saturday isn't as well versed in this as her friend would be, so he won't press her for details. At the moment, what she's saying is enough to give him an idea of where to start.

"Yeah. I mean, it's kind of a weird thing back home. I didn't believe in demons for a long time when I was growing up, but we've had a lot of run ins with them over the past few years. The main problem is that they take over a person and...become them. It's hard to find them and...well, they can take over dead bodies, too. Keep them going. Which means you have to be careful fighting them. Because, too often, when you get the demon out of the body, the body falls down dead."

[wheyoftheadept]

"I wish Maggie was here, too," Saturday says, the animation suddenly fled from her face and body. "She's the smart one. She'd know what to make of the noosphere and probably be halfway to figuring out how t'use it to get home. I'm good at fighting and talking, not solving mysteries."

"Sorry I don't know more," she says, pep returned as easily as flicking an internal switch. "I don't use my magic at all like she does, I didn't even really think I had any til pretty recent. The theory never mattered to me."

Saturday frowns as he goes on about the demons. "We have things that do something like that. Do yours come from outside reality? I mentioned them one the network, I think."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam grimaces at that. "Sorry, I didn't...I mean, I know you're doing your best. But I generally like asking questions."

Looking around, Sam finds another monitor to take a whack at. "You kinda remind me of my brother, actually." Which isn't a bad thing. He misses Dean about the same as she sounds like she misses her friend, Maggie.

And her question doesn't require him to think about the answer. "Not really? I mean, I think Hell is actually part of our reality. A slightly different plane, maybe, but still very much part of our world. Same as Heaven."

And yes. That means that angels exist in his world, too.

[wheyoftheadept]

"No, it's not your fault." Saturday is definitely taking out her sudden surge of emotion on these handy pieces of office equipment in a very Deanlike way. "I just miss her, is all. We grew up together, we've never really been separated before."

They'd only just gotten Maggie back from her own kidnapping; Saturday had promised not to leave, that nothing was gonna stop them getting home together again, and now this -

"...I hope she's doing okay. And your brother, too."

She take a brief break to go all out on a CPU tower stained yellow with age. To Sam, this involves her exploding with movement, fast enough that he can't actually see her arms except as blurs, and then the CPU is a pile of scrap. It's very anime. Also, made her feel a little better.

"Heaven and Hell? Like - God and stuff?" She looks extremely skeptical.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Honestly?" Sam shakes his head, taking an overhead swing at the monitor he's working on. "I'm pretty sure that once he figured out I was missing, he's had..." A pause as he remembers that's not something Dean can do right now. "Uh. I'm sure he'll have somebody trying to figure out where I've gone."

Castiel is in the mental hospital, having taken Sam's place there, along with all the jagged edges of his memories. It meant it would be a lot harder for Dean to track him down. Or figure out that he wasn't in their world.

"Anyway. He'll be fine." Probably.

And then she does THAT and he has to stop and stare for a minute. "Was that an application of your kind of magic?" Hey, he has to ask. "And yeah. Though God's been on walkabout for...the vast majority of humans being on Earth, apparently."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yep!" Saturday hoists the bat on her shoulder, looking proud. She IS cool, thank you. "Physical adept. My magic is intuitive and physically-focused, and mostly I use it to be better at fighting. Spent most of my life not even thinking it was magic."

Knowing is another thing; Maggie had told her, over and over, but - well, none of that is Sam's business.

"And if God's been gone then how do you know it's Heaven?" she asks. "Could be any metaplane, then."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"All right, that's pretty cool." He shakes his head, huffing a soft laugh. "I run a lot to keep in shape. I never had much in the way of powers, magical or otherwise. Unless you count being really good at research as a power."

No need to go into things about the visions and everything else that had happened in his life. Not with somebody absolutely new to him, at least.

"And I know because demons have counterparts. And we've met more than a few of them, too."

[wheyoftheadept]

"For sure, though," she says, surprised. "Legwork's the most important part of any job, isn't it? Can't win if you don't know what you're dealing with."

And that goes double if fucked up magical bullshit is involved. Saturday nods, agreeing with herself.

"I know I wouldn't know how to find something out except by asking someone who knew how to learn things." She considers his points re: Heaven.

"How do you know they're angels, then?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam grins at her. "Well, in that case, I'll go ahead and volunteer as one of the people to go to if you need to find something out. I may not know it, but I'm good at finding what I need."

The grin falters a bit as he shrugs, though. "I've gotten a little too up close and personal with one. Well, archangel rather than just an angel. Believe me, they're real."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Good." Saturday dents another one of the fax machines, folding it almost in two. "We'll need people who know how to figure things out. There's a plan in the works to take a run at the executive levels," she says, quite as casually as if she were discussing an office birthday party. "With any luck, we'll get a few keys to the castle, and that means incoming data. If you like, I can keep you in mind for making sense of it."

Saturday isn't sure what to say about the angel thing. There are stories from the Awakening about spirits summoned by accident or somewhat on purpose - people whose prayers and rituals suddenly started working - and being mistaken for other things. Or not mistaken, depending on which school of magic you talk to. Appearing like an angel is probably within the realms of things a spirit can do, but it seems rude to argue.

"I guess maybe spirit, angel, or god is mostly in how you relate to it," she prevaricates instead. It's not an issue she's thought a lot about, despite having met at least three beings that would probably qualify for god or angel or demonhood if someone drew up a criteria. One lived, briefly, in her left foot.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Yeah, I can definitely do that." He certainly looks interested, after all. "I'm sure I'm not the only person around here who can do stuff like that. Might be useful to start putting together a team of some sort." Something that he could do on the network, he thought. Not anonymous, but encrypted. Though it might not even need to be encrypted. After all, they'd been brought here to deal with what was going on. Research was part of that.

SAm glances over at her, but decides not to argue further. After all, admitting that you'd let Lucifer into your body so that you could lock him up again was...not something that most people would find comforting. Or, perhaps, even convincing in Saturday's case. "Close enough, I guess. I'd be more wary of anybody around here showing up and saying they're an angel, even if it was one I knew from home."

Castiel's probably the only one that he'd accept off the bat. Though that could still be the Stuff.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday hits him with the double finger-gun plus tongue click and wink.

"Way ahead of you. Got a shortlist, and a bit of a plan, too. No point dillydallying when there's so many professionals around with spare time and a grudge, yeah?"

The room is starting to run out of things to smash. Maybe they get to smash to drones, next? That would be fun.

"I mean, if they were a proper angel, it'd be an easy test, right? Just ask 'em to divine intervention us out of here."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"You're really overestimating the amount of power your average seraph has." Sam chuckles and shakes his head, grinning. It's good that she already has a shortlist going, though. It saves time. "If it was one of the big four? It's...not impossible that they might be able to manage to get us out. Or at least get us to a connected plane of existence, but that might be worse. We might be seeing the GOOD outcome of that last war, after all."

It's certainly a thing to think about. That this all could have gone worse for the world. "Your average footsoldier angel isn't going to be able to manage that sort of thing. They're powerful, but they have limits."

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday can't help the snort that escapes her. "What's the point of them, then, if they can't miracle you out of trouble? Isn't that what angels are for usually? I don't know much about them, I've never been to church."

Saturday's skepticism is only growing stronger - even if they are divinities they certainly don't sound that useful as divinities - but maybe in a world without as much magic as hers, angel-spirit-thingies can't do as much.

"What kind of limits? Spirits can usually do as much as they're empowered with when you manifest them on the physical. In the astral they have a lot more juice, I think. Well, except free spirits don't need a summoner to manifest, they can pop in and out whenever with all their power... I think. At least, Haizel and Gray can. Not an expert, like I said."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"There's levels of trouble, Saturday," he points out, shaking his head. "Also, the rules here are different than the ones back in our own homes. I don't know how much of it is affecting you, but there are people who are here and have powers now that they don't have in their own worlds. And some who have powers that are much decreased. Even if an angel from my world arrived here, I don't know that the physics of this place would allow them to operate at anything near the same power level."

Sam gives that some thought. More because he knows there's a lot that he's never even seen when it comes to angels and their power. "Trying to remember how Cas puts it. Angels aren't exactly physical. They mostly are...metaphysical wavelengths of power. His true form is more along the size of the Chrysler Building in New York, but all folded down into a human body." A moment pause. "Difference between angels and demons back home. Demons can take a human host without the host's permission or even knowledge, most of the time. Angels have to get permission."

Though they could trick a human into saying yes. Lucifer had tried that a couple of times.

"I guess they're probably a bit closer to your free spirits, in that you don't call them, they just appear when and where they want. Most angels can heal any injury, even curing sickness and disease, though a large population would probably require a few angels. They're stronger and faster than any human. Near instantaneous teleportation. Or it feels like that to humans. It's mostly flying, though." He starts ticking things off on his fingers. "Invulnerability and immortality. They can walk through people's dreams. They can locate any human that isn't protected by certain sigils. Regeneration of any damage that does manage to get through. A certain amount of protection from harm that they can grant others. Knock people unconscious with a touch. Warp reality so that things that were there a minute ago aren't. And they really aren't, it's not just making your brain think they aren't. Smiting, always a good one. Temporal awareness, which is knowing when something has been changed in the past because there are also some more powerful angels with the ability to travel in time. They don't require food, water, sleep or even to breathe, even in a host body..."

Another moment of thought as he tries hard to remember everything that he's seen Castiel do. "They can see beyond human perception and see things that would be invisible to humans. Telekinesis, telepathy. Some of them can reshape large areas of land. Some of them can even bring people back from the dead, provided they know where all the parts of the body are and they have the soul, though higher level angels can do that with only the soul." Like what Zachariah had done with Adam. "And that's not even the end of the powers, those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head."

Really, angels were some of the most powerful creatures in Sam's world. They might be considered something different in other worlds, but Sam's was pretty low magic.