so_hawkward: ([neut] studying you)
[personal profile] so_hawkward
Hey, I don't know who else is still here and listening to this, but this is Clint Barton and I've got some awesome notes in front of me, so listen up.

First of all, Zinyak is really pissed at us, which is good because ▓▓▓ that guy. He blew up the fake school, but the simulation is apparently breaking in other places because of whatever the hell the people back in Fandom are doing. Atton seems to have some of his powers back, and he took over a helicopter and then picked up Cara, and together they did a good chunk of damage before Atton got disappeared again into some simulation where he's a Bitterwoman villain. Eliot got out of his Western by letting himself get shot - that sounds like something I'd do, smart idea - and Parker broke out too and stole a car with Sparkle. She found Eliot, which was a nice reunion, and Eliot and Sparkle talked about the new superpowers Sparkle randomly had.

Along with our fun new powers, if you see any weird graffiti in places, it's from Fandom - they've gotten in and it looks like they want us to break out. Jono and Hannibal attacked one of the towers, and managed to take out the guys guarding it with jello and... rain of skunks with parachutes?

*minute-long pause of muffled laughing*

Sorry, I just--there was a mental image and--little parachutes and then they'll land and spray everything and--sorry, I'm good now. It's been a long week, you guys get it. Raven also managed to get past the guys with guns and took out another tower, so it's good news all around. If you're still listening to this, get out there and do some damage, and hopefully none of us will still be here tomorrow.
[identity profile] zin-the-matrix.livejournal.com
"Now listen, ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ungrateful ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓ ▓ ▓ Austen-- ▓▓▓ kill you-- ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓"

Zinyak's voice puttered out across the audio systems. One of yesterday's disabled towers tipped over, smashing into Selkie Peak. Zin soldiers flooded into the simulation.

There was another burst of Avé Maria. Then there was just the sound of chaos, below.

[[ npcs are requestable here! feel free to use this as a catch-all fighty post, or post as you like. ]]
[identity profile] zin-the-matrix.livejournal.com
Simulation 45y was not actually doing so well. The underlying code had been brutalized in a variety of ways over the past few days, and half the changes that had been made were actually the consequence of quickly patching over holes in the programming, replacing one feature with another.

It was about to get worse.

It began as something innocuous: a small plaque outside town hall that read, in flowing script, THE PONY CAME HOME.

An hour later, the sign above the Perk changed: TAKE IT DOWN.

And, in well-lit letters across the wall of the post office: IF YOU BREAK IT, THE SIM GOES DOWN WITH IT.

[[ wait for the ocd up! hackers, come graffiti the sim! matrixees, come beat up bad guys! ]]
[identity profile] whoisalicewhite.livejournal.com
Parker popped out of her Money Matrix into a street. It kind of looked like Japan. Or maybe Mexico. Somewhere. Hey, was that the castle over there? ... when did all these tourists show up?

Along that loooooong street that might be Fandom there were cars. SO MANY CARS.

"This is my jam."

Step one, break in.

Step two, break it all.

[Parker is about to drive things into other things. Feel free to jump in, or ask for her assistance in unlocking a sports-car.

VROOM!

ETA: YOU SAW NOTHING IT WAS ALWAYS HERE. *magic jazz hands*]
suitably_heroic: (dsp: intense)
[personal profile] suitably_heroic
Outside the MCA building stood a man. An angry man. He hadn't seen Cara in days. Some schutta had broken into his head. His ship wasn't here.

But at least he had powers, now-- some at least similar to what he'd had before.

So he stood outside, and he waited. He listened to Zinyak's broadcast, and he waited - for the changes to come, for something to happen.

As the clappering of helicopter blades hit his ears and the roads widened, he said, "Finally."

And then Atton pushed off, hitting the side of the MCA building, pushing off again, grabbing a passing helicopter by the railings, flipping in through the open door with a bare modicum of effort. If he was going to be in here for a moment longer, at least he'd be able to go airborne. Do something. Maybe get to the top of one of those towers.

An alien came hurtling down from the helicopter a moment later. It hit the pavement.

[[ open! ]]
[identity profile] zin-the-matrix.livejournal.com
"I hope all of you have taken the opportunity to cool your heels gracefully," Zinyak's voice intoned. "Even if your fellows down below are being incredible pests. Do they know I could crush you all if I wished? All of this is mine, dear citizens of Simulation 45y. Let me demonstrate."

There was a large, blinding pillar of light.

There was a loud, impossible explosion.

The school tore itself apart, bricks and towers floating upwards into the sky, desks hovering in the air underneath an impossible red glare that served to illuminate the many different chunks that remained of Fandom High's imposing castle.

"That could be the beginning of something terrible for you," Zinyak said, "Or you could convince your little friends to stop warping this simulation and leave you in peace. It is your choice."

His voice ceased. A loud heavy metal opera began.

Buildings tore away from each other, the roads broadening to three times their regular width. More dead-eyed people flooded the streets, and with them a stream of SUVs and sportscars that drove just a little bit too fast. Helicopters tore up into the sky, their blades clappering loudly.

Something had broken; something potentially useful: outside every tower, a console uncloaked, visible to all.

[[ your daily zinyak! info on the specific changes is here, npc requests go here, more to come later today... ]]
myownface: (Smoking)
[personal profile] myownface
Did he just, like, I mean - c'mon guys, I know the squirrels on the island are pushy little jerks but at least I had, like, an understanding with them. I come in to the radio station without, like, putting up a fight, and they let me do things like pick up coffee and stare at the exploded school along the way!

*chittering*

Sure.

Anyway.

Hi, um, Sim Fortywhatever-W. This is Sparkle, like, actually me Sparkle, and I am better dressed than I have ever been in my life right now, and I could have run away from the squirrels and maybe even outrun those blaster rifles the Zin are carrying, but instead I'm here, with notes, which I'm going to read to you. So that, I don't know, presumably we can all rally together and kick ass. There are weird console things outside and helicopters and that just sounds like an invitation to me.

For those not paying attention at home, your home isn't your home, and some jerkass named Zinyak has kidnapped us all. He, like, made an announcement about this yesterday. And the day before. Which mostly involved chiding us like little kids and then doing freaking literary readings, because of course we'd get abducted by a frog-faced creep who thinks we need more Shakespeare in our lives. Of course.

In the dorms, where it's good to see that reading bedroom notes is still creepy even when the dorms are fake, Alex tried to get out of bed, and ended up on the ceiling. Which isn't in bed, so mission accomplished, I guess?

In town, Hannibal and Jono were making plans and trying to make a list of the people who are here when Jono almost put his head through the ceiling? And then there was, like, frog rain, which is... also weird. But I guess the takeaway here is that we should probably try to touch base with one another at some point if we're not evil alien sims and stuff. Edward joined the 'I have powers now, I guess' club by running up a wall, and Bo managed to get her coffee from some uncooperative barista at the Fake-Perk by making it rain fish.

Frogs and fish rain. This place is almost as fucked-up as the real thing.

In the ongoing adventures of people who have been sucked off to even weirder sims, we have Pinkie vanishing to somewhere or other after she interrupted Hardison in his attempt to break out of this place and they both got busted by the Zin. Eliot is still alive and well in a Western when last the squirrels tuned in, and was schooling the locals on this little thing called 'white people are actually less entitled to be here than the Sioux kthx,' and Cara got a spaceship and a crew and a possible romantic arc, and something about space zombies? See, like, I'd be jealous, but you lost me at space zombies.

*Rustling*

And that's all the notes. All that, and these squirrels didn't offer me alcohol even once. Whatever, I'm out of here. I'm gonna commit Grand Theft Auto and keep points for each Zin I hit. It'll be a great time. Sparkle out.
myownface: (Intense)
[personal profile] myownface
I guess these are supposed to go here! For a morning Matrix broadcast!
doesnotkneel: (pb: moody)
[personal profile] doesnotkneel
The street just outside the radio station was quiet, for the time of day. Some empty-faced people were milling around, a cartoon dog was sniffing at the grass, and a rickshaw stood by the side of the road. Quietly, all of them silent, as if they were waiting for something else to switch them on.

There was silence and rain.

There was a sudden blur of motion and dust.

There was silence again.

Edward blinked. He looked down from the balcony he had suddenly found himself seated on, at the ground, where his feet had left tracks in the mud so thin they were practically invisible.

"Well," he said, "That is certainly different."

[[ open! ]]
nookiepowered: (action (smashy))
[personal profile] nookiepowered
After an hour or so at Atlas had confirmed Bo's fears that her super-strength and a lot of her fighting reflexes hadn't carried over to this Kenzi-less reality, she'd spent yesterday just wandering around observing the new bits and people of the town without poking hard enough to get more than the odd back off, lady look. Trying to act Normal. Something she'd wanted for years, but now that she had it, normal was.... weird. Not hungry or worried about getting that way, but weak, and unconnected, and kind of empty, and...weird.

Normal had still been the plan today, at least until somebody pointed Bo at something she could help with besides hitting or hitting on whatever passed for the bad guys this time. But that was before the tattooed barista with the purple mohawk who could pass for a member of Tiny's extended family refused to hand over her coffee. "Excuse me?"

"For this latte and a chance to win what's behind curtain number three," Mohawk Dude repeated, gesturing to a curtain that wasn't remotely there, "What's the capital city of Finland?"

"Why would I know, why would I care, why would you care, and why am I not drinking that coffee right now?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't give you the prize if you don't answer the question correctly."

"I just paid you for--- ugh." Guess whose phone not only couldn't reach Kenzi or Tamsin, let alone any of her off-island friends, but also wouldn't load any websites besides the Moobyland employee payroll login screen? "Reykjavik?"

It was the sad, condescending smile that pushed her over the edge. Into pointless rage, she thought for a second, since no powers and if she threw a punch at that she could say goodbye to weird normal and embrace her new life as a pancake.

Then the herring started splatting on his head.

Which was why you could now find Bo standing on the night-dark street, one hand busy directing a shower of fish down on anything shaped like a dog or carrying a weapon, the other holding quite firmly to her large triple caramello. Sure, this left her soaking wet from the real rain, but...coffee.

[OOC: Haha j/k I totally know it's Oslo.]
[identity profile] zin-the-matrix.livejournal.com
Early in the morning, the skies went black.

"Citizens of Simulation 45y," Zinyak's voice boomed, "You are disappointing me."

Amidst the black, the shape of a large alien became clear, sitting forward, a chalice in his hand. "I have given you ample opportunity to behave," he said. "I am not unreasonable. But since it appears a prison of peace will not keep you, I must introduce more stringent measures. Behave peacefully, and you will lack for none. Continue this immature, destructive behavior, and I will be forced to make this even worse, until you obey."

He cleared his throat.

"Now, for an excerpt from the Scottish Play..."

That went on for another hour.

When it ended, the skies didn't clear. They remained black like the night. Clouds rolled in, and rain descended on the town. Buildings seemed to stretch and reach for it, becoming taller, even though nothing changed on the inside. Hunters poured onto the streets, shaped like cartoon dogs. Ordering coffee became markedly more difficult, and the Mooby Calf had grown a mind of its own.

But thanks to the efforts of others outside the simulation, the captives were now not without means...

[[ establishy! ]]
[identity profile] whoisalicewhite.livejournal.com
WHOMP.

A pile of money slid sideways under Parker as she landed. A mattress of money.

A huge, huge, princess-and-the-pea size set of mattresses, maybe. "What the..."

.... in non-sequential bills!!!

"Eeeeeee!"

[open for anyone to get sucked in and or spat out into Parker's little happy money pit.]
[identity profile] inner-fire.livejournal.com
"Of course! Of-bloody-course!"

Jonothon was... well, to say he was angry was probably a severe understatement. He was outside, yelling at... mostly at the simulation flamingos that had camped out on Hannibal's perfectly manicured simulation lawn. There was a simulation of Joni in his pocket, which was normal except for the 'simulation' part, and he was letting off steam by kicking that simulation tree a few times before jogging a lap of the lawn and starting the process all over.

Because of course none of this was real. Of course his face wasn't real, of course this world wasn't real and they were all trapped in some manner of bloody mindfuck by some sort of pretentious nit for god bloody only knew what reasons, and there was probably a saner, calmer way to get the hell out of this mess, but the danger they were in wasn't immediate so much as infuriating thus far, and Jono was not a big fan of mindfucks or having his body altered against his will as he slept at night, and he'd wind down and start being functional sooner or later, but right now...?

Right now, he was going to do another circuit of the lawn, where he'd been pacing a trench since Zinyak's announcement that morning, and he was going to kick that tree one more time for good measure. He didn't like the way it had been looking at him. And kicking a rickshaw driver dressed as a hot dog hardly seemed sporting.

...Then again, it probably would have been satisfying, at least.

In his pocket, simulation-Joni mostly just peered out curiously and meowed from time to time.

[OOC: Open! Grumpy Jono is grumpy.]
electrocynic: ([ec neg] Bitchy uniform.)
[personal profile] electrocynic
The uniform had been a reflex. What else were you supposed to do when subjected to monologuing from someone who distinctly sounded like a super villain? It was in her blood.

But sometimes it was of no use. Sure, she was wearing her go-go boots and her dress and her cuff, but what good was it? Her powers were gone. (And she hadn't even noticed until today. Look, yesterday had been a day of mostly nothing.) And now she was standing in the park, just... watching. Looking around.

A rikshaw went past, driven by what, yes, looked like a person in a hot dog costume.

She felt more unsettled than she would have preferred.

"Now what?"

[ooc: Post and park are open for all that usual stuff they can be open for!]
soniaroadsqueen: (injured)
[personal profile] soniaroadsqueen
Ringo was not feeling well. She wasn't looking too good, either.

She wasn't as nauseous as she had been when she woke up Wednesday morning feeling like everything was spinning and tilting, but things still didn't feel very stable under her feet. She'd managed to carefully make her way down the hallway from her room to the common room to eat some rice crackers, but then she hadn't been up to getting back to her room.

So now she was laying down on the couch, looking unhealthily pale and hoping that the bag of ice on her forehead would help.

It did, a little, but not a whole lot. Some part of Ringo was worried because she knew something was wrong. She didn't get dizzy. Or, she never had before. It was supposed to be impossible for a Gravity Child, in fact. But she felt dizzy. Really, really dizzy.

She should probably talk to someone, but she felt just nauseous enough to find it hard to get up the energy.

[ooc: Open, of course. Ringo's suffering the effects of no longer having access to an internal gyroscope, and isn't at all used to trying to figure out balance without it.]
suitably_heroic: (dsp: pissed off)
[personal profile] suitably_heroic
Several hours of searching his apartment - when he and Cara had gotten back, and again this morning - and then the greater premises of the MCA building, such as the lobby - and Atton had finally found a weapon.

Which was to say he had a broom.

He put his foot down on the head as he stepped outside and violently yanked the stick part out of it. "So what I'm gathering from this," he said, looking up at... wherever that voice had come from, just to make sure he was listening, "is that there's finally someone we can beat the poodoo out of."

They had taken all of his weapons, they had taken the Force out of his head, and they had taken the Ebon Hawk. Atton might not have been Sith anymore, but damn if he wasn't strongly inclined to make sure someone was going to die. Screaming. For this. "And then to finish up, I think I'm going to kick this Zinyak guy in the nuts."

[[ open, though some sp warning applies! ]]
[identity profile] zin-the-matrix.livejournal.com
The voice came at a civilized time: just before breakfast, or at least, the hour any reasonable person would be having breakfast. It was a cultured voice, benevolent, with only the slightest undercurrent of threat.

"Citizens of Simulation 45y," it began, "This is Emperor Zinyak of the Zin Empire. I am willing to forgive your trespasses from yesterday as a mere initial surge of confusion, but for your own safety, I have installed some guards. Please, settle in peacefully, and no further measures need to be taken. Thank you. And now that I have your attention..."

The rest of the hour was taken up by Zinyak reading choice chapters from Society & Sociability aloud to the simulation. He was quite fond of Austen.

Afterwards, he sank back into his seat and waved a hand. Some of yesterday's pleasant island-dwellers began to congregate around the towers and morphed, gaining the appearance of a Zin, gaining blasters; he'd rather wished he didn't need to do that. Not just because he really had hoped they'd go along willingly: the act of adding something always meant the act of displacing something else.

Like replacing his NPCs' clothing programs with the Fast Food Mascot collection. Filling up the stores with a collection of gag weapons that he hoped weren't entirely functional. Replacing several restaurant items with flapjacks: he supposed that wasn't too bad.

He decided to slap the Laughter soundtrack on both bars on the island just to give it all a bit of panache. That would hopefully do.

[[ establishy! ]]
geniuswithasmartphone: (Hacking Makes Me Brood)
[personal profile] geniuswithasmartphone
The staff's new look momentarily distracted Hardison from noticing their vacant smiles--for a second, he'd almost thought it was normal Fandom weirdness that had them dressing up like hot dogs. It wasn't until the Cook looked up from the stove to wave cheerfully at him--instead of ignoring him as was right and proper--that Hardison realized that they, too, had been replaced by creepy pod people.

Snarling at them to stay in the kitchen unless specifically needed to do their jobs, Hardison walked over to the Specials board and erased it. There were a lot more important information to be kept track of than the food on-order today (flapjacks, flapjacks and more flapjacks, in case anyone cared). When he was done noting everything he could think of on the board, he kept it propped up in the window to attract attention. Maybe with more info than what they had, they could figure something out.

That done, Hardison set up at a booth with several laptops, trying to figure out how they were keeping communications down and seeing if there was anything he could break. He was in the mood to cause a lot of trouble today.

TODAY'S SPECIALS
flapjacks!

People w/out Powers:
*Atton
*Jono
*Bo?
*Raven

People w/out Weapons:
*Cara
*Zoe

Missing People:
*Eliot
*Parker
*Surreal?
*Cosima

Other Weird Stuff
*Pets missing and/or wrong
*Most PEOPLE wrong (LOOK AT LUKE'S STAFF)
*Force field
*No communication from outside island
*Anyone's phone working?
*Jono healed(?)
*Creepy towers

YO! PAY ATTENTION TO THIS PART!
According to a chat I had with someone named Kinzie, we're actually in some kind of Fandom sim, a lot like the Danger Shop, only up on some weird alien spaceship. As an FYI.

FEEL FREE TO ADD!
geniuswithasmartphone: (Lost)
[personal profile] geniuswithasmartphone
I just...sup, Fandom. Or wherever the *BLEEP* we are, I guess. I dunno how far this broadcast's goin'--not very, is my guess--but anyone who's stuck in this place with me can prolly hear this, at least. So, first step--hey, what's up, you ain't alone. Even if your partners somehow fell through some kinda tear in reality an left you behind, there's other folks here still. Normal folks, not the creepy 'Everythin' Is Awesome' folks wanderin' around, smilin' all unsettlin' like. Don't know who's here an' who ain't, that might be a good thing to figure out.

Or...Or somethin'. I dunno. I ain't a mastermind. And the *BLEEP* I do know don't seem to be much good at figurin' out what's wrong or where my people went, so who knows what it's even good for-- *Long, shuddery breath*

WTF Radio )

A'ight. So, to sum up what seems to be most important: A buncha us are trapped here, stuck in some kinda force field that keeps us in an' communication out. There's some other people who're in here with us, but they've all been, like, lobotomized into thinkin' it's some kinda happy funtime party--you can tell who's who by whether they're smilin' like an extra in a Soundgarden video or if they look properly distressed. Some folks with powers ain't got theirs anymore, some folks' weapons ain't workin' anymore, and some folks...some folks just vanished. I'mma be at Luke's today, tryna figure...somethin out. Anythin'. Feel free to stop by with whatever info you got, see if we can't figure what's what an' how to fix it.

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