#plot drop 002.

* DEHQ PLOT DROP 002

Seventeen years, it’s been.  The year was 2108. By all accounts, the survivors of Devil’s Elbow should have seen it coming. They should have been prepared — and perhaps they tried to be, but there’s something to be said for the mutations occurring in a creature that spends almost twenty years incubating in deeply irradiated grounds. Every season for nearly a century, they’ve grown larger and louder until suddenly, insects that would’ve once grown to one, perhaps two inches at most were crawling from the soil at up to three times that size.  In brood seasons prior, the cicadas were little more than a nuisance, a frustration more than anything. They weren’t violent insects, after all, not hostile or aggressive — but their natural predators were.  For nearly a hundred years, the bald-faced hornets of the Appalachia have evolved to hunt the cicadas upon their emergence — Afterglow scientists debated whether it was an inherent instinct born of sister species of wasps over history or a recent evolution given the relatively docile behavior and large size of the cicadas, only a few of which could provide ample nourishment for a hive until the first frost.  These hornets, traveling in swarms of up to or over a dozen, seek to gather as many of the cicadas as they can over the short, two week window in which the subterranean insects come topside to mate.  In an attempt to ward off these hornets, once harmless cicadas developed a defense mechanism; a chemical response triggered by stress causes the insects to release a poisonous secretion from bristly protrusions on each of its six legs and on its abdomen. Unfortunately, the response had very little effect on the irradiated wasps in the area, with much  larger and hardier exoskeletons than their predecessors.  However, this secretion caused an acute reaction in any mammals that happened to come in contact — humans included. Symptoms would appear within moments of contact, starting with an angry red and blistering rash accompanied by localized fever and an intense stinging pain that radiates from wherever skin was exposed to the secretion. In mild cases, the effects would begin to diminish after several days, but in severe cases, flu-like symptoms including high fever, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea could ensue. Dehydration and malnutrition were not only possible, but highly likely.  Local herbalists found certain salves seemed to aid in pain relief and inflammation while the researchers at Afterglow scrambled for a solution, but they simply did not have the time before the last of the brood died off or retreated underground and, with it, the rest of the samples Afterglow could have used to find an antidote. Fifty-seven citizens of Devil’s Elbow died as a direct result of the Cicada Incident of 2108. Those who survived exposure to the secretions were left with scarring and, in rare cases, nerve damage at the sites of worst contact.  Dr. Felix Estrada, under public scrutiny due to his recent promotion to Chief Medical Officer at Afterglow Research Solutions, was intent to shift the focus to the positive strides being made at their laboratories. Any efforts of finding an antidote for the cicada toxin were put on the back burner in favor of advancing the effectiveness of their widely available and marketable Stim-Paks. Public Relations officials for both Afterglow and the Governance managed to diminish criticism in the press, and within a year, most citizens had forgotten about the cicadas. Or, at very least, put them to the back of their minds — there were more pressing threats to worry about, after all.  The year is 2125. There is a rumbling underfoot, the subtle stir of a plague awakening deep beneath the soil. There are a select few who remember — those who have been counting down the years, waiting. But history often repeats itself in cruel and tragic ways and, as was the case seventeen years ago, the people of Devil’s Elbow are in no way prepared for the horrors about to come up from under them.

* OOC :

                                 CHAPTER TWO: THE VOID CALLS

WHEN: 12:36 A.M. Monday, February 3rd, 2020

WHERE: Oculus Manor, Abingdon, England.

So far it’s been a relatively peaceful evening, despite the simmering tension. The Enigmas have settled into the guest wing of the Oculus Manor while the Oculus’ take up their old bedrooms. After a nearly silent dinner together everyone left for their respective rooms. There were some who lingered behind for quiet conversations in the lounge, kitchen, or gardens.  But for the most part, the teams went off to hide in their rooms and avoid eye contact with their estranged siblings and old-time rivals.

Sometime just past midnight, ZEPHYR was awoken by the faint sound of whistling. Not human whistling, they were sure, but the sound of air rushing to escape. After checking their window for some sort of draft, they followed the sound down the hall and upstairs to the corridor which contains the doors to the library, study, and The Headmaster’s old room. The whistling, whoosing was faint, but their ears were attuned to such a sound and they were able to follow it down the hallway. As they approached they noticed something strange, the paintings on the wall were rattling. The slightest tremor making them clack against the wood-paneled walls. Stranger still, the further they walked down the hall the more this wind tugged at their clothes and pulled them further. That was when ZEPHYR called out, thinking this was a prank; someone trying to trick them into thinking the house was haunted. They stood their ground and waited.

Awoken by the sound of ZEPHYR’s shouting, a few team members found them standing in the hallway, staring in awe at something at first invisible. Floating in the middle of the hallway, suspended in midair was a black dot. No greater than the size of a quarter, it was difficult to see among the shadows of the night. Pure, infinite blackness confined to a small circle, the teams observed it with caution. It seemed to draw everything towards it. BLITZBANG reached out towards it, but drew back when their bracelet flew off their wrist and was swallowed by the dark orb - disappearing. Though they couldn’t see it, the orb got a little bigger.

MR. MOE arrived on the scene last, and when he saw the orb, he told everyone to stand back. What it the object was, they all could tell: a black hole exactly in the spot where Harold Knox had died. His powers, which had been the reason for building the academy, could now destroy it.

THE OBJECTIVE: Identify the strange floating thing in the hallway and determine if it’s a threat.

                          PLOT DROP TWO. THE TUTORIAL.

WHEN: July 25th, 2003

WHERE: Key Warehouse, University of Chicago Campus 

When you walk through the warehouse doors, the first thing that meets you is the smell. Like a brand new hospital in a very old building. It reeks of fresh plastic and industrial cleaning chemicals, but with an undercurrent of mildew and dust. The concrete floor sends the echoes of your footsteps up to the metal ceiling, where skylights and high windows pour in the early morning sun. It’s uncharacteristically gloomy for a summer day, and the warehouse is cold. The air conditioner seems to be on full blast .You have to wonder what the electricity bills for this place looks like. 

In the center of the warehouse there is a ring of ten hospital beds, all with carts of medical equipment next to them. The dull black screens of heart monitors warn what’s to come. You can see a crash cart tucked nearby, next to a clumps of desks with multiple monitors stacked into a grand display. It looks more like a FBI surveillance set up than a college psychology experiment. But the group of people milling around in lab coats and nurses’ scrubs point to the truth: this is a medical endeavour. 

The first to walk up to your group is Doctor Parveen Narula, the current director of the program and head of the university’s psychology department. She greets you warmly and guides you to the ring of beds. She explains that they’re going to be running some baseline tests first, similar to a routine check up at the doctor’s just to check your vitals. So you each take a bed and try to make small talk with the nurses as they hook you up the machines. Heart rate and blood pressure are first. Then they lean you back and start attaching the electrodes to your head to scan brain activity. More and more devices are attached you, even one pressed against your brain stem. 

Then, you are given earbuds and the special virtual reality goggles. As you put them on the world goes dark. It’s time for the initial scan where the machine will dive into your memories and search for the root of your trauma. There’s no going back now. The words of one of the research assistant rings in your head. While preparing you, they made one thing very clear: the longer you stay in the level, the more your brain will accept it as reality. If you don’t complete the level fast enough, you will forget that it’s a game.

THE OBJECTIVE: Run initial physical tests and prepare to enter the game. 

IN CHARACTER TIMEFRAME: Two hours.