Daycycle 1 [11/1 - 11/3]
Daycycle 1
[November 1-3]
[This game can be as plot heavy or laid back as you would like it to be. Each IC day will cover three RL days in order to give everyone time to tag and play out scenarios to their heart's content. Each IC day will start with a briefing, assignments for a group of 2 or more characters and additional information about the Complex that you may or may not use in play. Additional assignments may be made throughout the day, but never more than one per character per day.
You are welcome to play out missions from any point (beginning, middle, end) but are not required to. You will,
You may post your character in a comment below for the Daycycle for others to tag, or post threads directly to
alphalogs
There's
Your sole possessions in this brave new world include one standard-issue red jumpsuit with boots (each citizen
Morning
At 0700 you are to report to the RED clearance cafeteria for a not-so-
At 0800 you will meet with the rest of the Complex’s Troubleshooters for briefing and assignments. As
A briefing officer in GREEN will make assignments, share gathered
Assignments:
Bucky Barnes and Parker
You two have been selected to be the stars of the Complex’s hit new reality show, Trouble Survivor. The last contestants were blown up in an accidental explosion in the R&D Sector while filming. This is a temporary assignment, but if you survive the day and the ratings, there could be a permanent spot for you in the Mind Control (MC) Fall line-up. You’ll each be assigned a remote surveillance drone that will follow you throughout your exciting first day as a Troubleshooter. MC will provide excitement where there is none, with spontaneous explosions, vehicle chases and paid traitor actors who have been provided with real weapons. Good Luck!
All Other Troubleshooters
You are to report to your Service Firm positions for the day, until called on for Troubleshooter duty.
Intel:
- The Free Enterprise secret society is trying to push a stolen shipment of PDCs in the Wagon Wheel.
- There have been reports of Nameless members who are erasing Mutant Registration entries for a price.
- The fire alarms have been compromised and may go off without warning.
Troubleshooter Assignment: At approximately 1400 Abbie Mills and Ray Palmer will be dispatched to assist in a hostage situation in the Technical Services Section. A citizen with suspected ties to the Mystics, a secret society, is holding four staff members of the Pharmaceutical Distribution Center hostage with what appears to be a bomb strapped to his body. He is demanding a lifetime supply of Dynomorphen, a discontinued medication that has been associated with irresponsible feelings of euphoria, enhanced strength and excessive hair growth. He also wants a guaranteed safety exit to the surface of the Earth.
Evening
The evening is uneventful in Alpha Complex. Televid viewers will vote on the popularity of any remaining Trouble Survivor contestants by PDC. The Art Gallery will open

Daycycle 1: Debriefing
Reward and punishment will be determined by the outcome of your missions, though they may depend entirely on the current processing power of The Computer at the time and classified information not available to you. In other words, everything is never as it seems, so be prepared for anything.
Please debrief The Computer and your Briefing Officer on your mission using the form below.
hostage situation in technical services
Troubleshooters: Abbie Mills, Ray Palmer
Mission outcome: Success-- hostages released and traitor detained. Ray Palmer convinced traitor that a Troubleshooter was a better hostage than the group of Pharma workers. Abbie Mills used her expertise in negotiations as a police officer to talk the traitor down. Ray Palmer defused and dismantled the bomb and turned in (most!) of its parts, retaining negligible hardware for his own personal stash.
Alpha Complex Damage: None
Traitorous Casualties: None
Citizen Casualties: Emotional trauma
Intel gained: None by Ray -- Abbie could have potentially gotten something out of the traitor after taking him in.
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Trouble Survivor
Troubleshooters Bucky Barnes, Parker
Mission outcome: Several drones blinded/leashed. One destroyed by Bucky and Traitor-Actor 1. Traitor-Actor 1 defeated, Actor-Traitor-Traitor-Actor 2 captured for interrogation by Parker (and Bucky) before being handed over to higher officials
Alpha Complex Damage: 1 drone destroyed, several vents likely infiltrated, minor explosion damage within Commissary to one floor of a building, destruction of at least four chairs (skinned for material)
Traitorous Casualties: None
Citizen Casualties: 0, aside from the drone
Intel gained: Exposure of Traitor-Actor as an actual Traitor
Around 0900-1000 hours into Daycycle 1 with Bucky Barnes [Open]
He really had been filled with far too much information to focus on how he had arrived at the facility, or the reason for needing a new arm at all. His memories were still piecing back together, bit by bit, and there were sections that were missing, like the gaps in his time in the Hydra base. There but not there, and perhaps a blessing in disguise to have out of place. He remembered the cold air rushing around him as they sped down the tracks, and the sound of straining and scraping metal as he had tried to reach for Steve's hand but beyond that hurt to think about.
The next clearest memory was the lab, and the scientists explaining to him who he was and what was expected of him. In some ways it was familiar. Orders, schedules, ranks and clearances. It was just a brighter, shinier segment of his time in the 107th. And for a while he let himself focus on that and nothing else.
The red jumpsuit was a terrible color on him, nd made him feel like he had dressed up in Steve's tights. The PDC was a mystery he didn't touch and the food was... well the food was nearly on par with Army rations. Much of the day was spent staring at his 'new' arm, not attached because Bucky didn't trust it, and slightly lost in a haze of just a bit of that Happy drug they had given him. For the pain, he told himself, despite feeling none of it.
He reached for it again in the morning. He almost left it but the action reminded him of the arm that was no longer a part of him, and he took another dose, got dressed and followed orders right to the 'mess hall'. Routine was something to keep his mind on, and the briefing that followed felt like a familiar friend to focus on, at least until the contents of it left him mystified.
It took some time to process, especially with the interference of the drug, but at least it kept him from starting an all out fist on fists fight with some of the other Reds and Troubleshooters in the middle of it all. The looks they were giving him would have been enough any other time.
His first hour as a Trouble Survivor was not overly eventful. He had tried to make sense of his assignment and the world around him while exploring the commissary. The drone following him was an uncomfortable reminder of how unfamiliar everything was, and he attempted to lose it a few times to no avail. Occasionally he stopped to touch things or try his hand at conversation with the not overly friendly cohabitants. Nothing he tried ended up being successful, but at least that hour had been explosion and assassination-attempt free.
That was part of the problem for both Bucky and the viewers. It left his mind too open to focus on what was happening, and what had happened. It was only after that first hour that it occurred to him what could be wrong with all of this. Red. The Nazis and Hydra were bad enough, he didn't need to be trapped with the Communists. Was that what this was? Had the Soviets scooped him up from wherever he had fallen.
Fallen. The fall from the train flashed through his mind so violently it gave him vertigo. He needed answers, but finding a place to start seemed like a mountain to climb. He was still in the Commissary, and he had to take a seat to collect himself. The looks from the other people wandering about hadn't stopped, and likely were not aided by the fact that one of Bucky's sleeves hung empty at his side. The fact that he had tucked the wrist into his pocket and tried to keep it trapped there did nothing to create an illusion of an arm, but he wasn't ready to trust the 'new' arm still back in his room.
His mind was a series of visual and word triggers that sent signals racing through his mind and nerves as the latest dose of HappiTime began to wore off. He had not brought any with him, and as time progressed, he was drawn further and further back into the mind of the wartime soldier on edge. If left to his own devices, it wouldn't be long before he gave viewers something to watch, even if that something was not exactly what was expected of him as per his assignment.
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So he made no contact — not wanting to give anything away about their familiarity with one another in public — but when it was announced that Bucky's assignment would involve a constant drone at his heels, Steve had to improvise.
His own assignment was in the Very Special Forces, which on day one, seemed to involve extensive training in protocols. At 0930, he had an opening to leave the training room for five minutes and Steve was immediately out the door. Finding Bucky turned out to be much less difficult than anticipated. The reality show was broadcasting clips from his point of view constantly.
The plan was simple. Pass Bucky, make eye contact, and shake his head to indicate no verbal communication. He needed to know if Bucky recognized him and what type of mental state he was in. There were some risk involved. If Bucky only remembered him as a target to kill on sight, there would be trouble for both of them. But that was a risk he was going to have to take.
He could hear the buzzing of the drone from around the corner. Go time.
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Now his head was mostly clear, and the events of the day were starting to piece together. He knew what his 'mission' was, but he didn't fully understand it. The drone was an annoying and constant companion he couldn't shake, and the majority of people he came across were both unfamiliar and unfriendly.
Luckily his mind had already shifted gears by 0930. He was on alert and suspicious. A bit of paranoia had gotten to his head from the fading drug mixing with his military training, and it had put him into the mindset that he should be questioning exactly who he was supposed to be working for now.
He made eye contact with Steve when their paths crossed and Bucky faltered in step just slightly. Steve's face was the one face he had needed to see, and the fact that the man was there with him changed things. But Bucky wasn't a fool. They had been working together in the Howling Commandos for long enough that he could tell the cut of Steve's expression and posture as a familiar one from their silent communications raiding Hydra bases. The headshake was all the communication Steve needed to get his point across, and as badly as Bucky wanted to question his friend on what was going on and what had happened on the train, he refrained.
He stopped to rifle through his pockets as though he thought he had misplaced something, trying to turn his back to the drone. He pulled out the PDC, largely useless in his hands but he saw so many people messing with them that it seemed a good cover. He gave Steve a nod in response while staring at the PDC, as if he were acknowledging it instead. Then he straightened up and glanced around, anywhere but directly at the other soldier but keeping the man in his peripherals.
His fingers twitched around the PDC and he fought the urge to try to take the drone out. That would just draw attention even more firmly on him. They needed to arrange some way to meet or communicate, but for the moment there were eyes on Bucky everywhere he went and he couldn't shake it.
At the very least, the visible recognition and relief in their brief eye contact should have been enough to tell Steve what Bucky couldn't even know the man needed to know. Steve was not a target.
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darn instead of damn because language
He is so lucky Bucky was not there for that ribbing.He would have joined in
lololol
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Parker
Infiltration consultant? That means she can go where she likes. That's how she's interpreted it and it would be a terrible idea to contradict her.
Thus, Parker's looking for the other guy, and the other drone, and when she spots him, shouts, "Stucky!"
She doesn't care about his name. Really.
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He did recognize her as the other member of the mission, though he had not lingered to talk about it after the briefing. Even after being around Agent Carter, it was a bit of an odd feeling to be on a mission with a dame, especially a mission he didn't understand.
He frowns when he catches sight of her, but he turns around and waits for her to continue. He's on edge, but maybe this can work in his favor. If there was some way he could get their drones confused or to take each other out, maybe he could shake them for a while.
"Agent Parker." She had to be an Agent like Carter. She wasn't a soldier, so why else would she be on a mission with one unless she was an Agent. But who did she work for? SSR? Hydra?
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What surprises her is the sight of a familiar face in the Commissary as she passes through, her smooth facade faltering for the briefest of moments before she changes course, skirting around the outside of the room for a moment, giving herself enough time observe and come up with a plan.
A possibly stupid plan, but so is leaving an unknown and potential threat nearby. Besides, occasionally she finds the direct approach to be the most useful. Which is why she strides towards him with an easy and comfortable grace and sinks down in the chair beside his with a mildly curious look, despite the fact that the last time she'd encountered him, he'd been trying very hard to kill her.
She's not taking it personally. It's not like it was the first time. Although if he tries again now, she'll rethink that. And also who might be running this place, because his presence is setting off a lot of internal alarms suddenly.
"Hey," she greets him easily, eyes alert and intent as she subtly watches him for a reaction - recognition, anything that will give her an idea of what she's dealing with here.
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He glances over when she greets him, and his reaction time is a bit slow, courtesy of the drugs. They never met, to his knowledge, and she's a beautiful woman, red jumpsuits they're all forced to wear and all. So he offers her a smile. His mind is still too scattered across subjects to come up with a good, charming sentence to greet her with, but he tries and his entire demeanor visibly changes from withdrawn to some semblance of open. He isn't thinking about his arm or the fact that the last woman he had asked to dance had actually rejected him with a full brush off.
"Well hello. Can I buy you a drink?" Which is foolish to ask because while they said he had credits and told him how to use them, he still doesn't understand how they work or know where they could go to actually get a better drink.
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Hardison [for Parker and Open]
Hardison's feelings about this place hadn't gotten any better since the day before when he'd arrived. He'd played around with his PDC but he didn't trust it farther than he could throw it. The technology was impressive, but still basic enough that he couldn't really do much with it. He needed a keyboard and a gallon of orange soda before he could get anywhere with the tech in this place. So far, he hadn't been able to get his hands on either.
He followed the crowds as they were herded through breakfast and then into something that looked like a classroom from a Police Academy movie. It was there that he spotted a familiar face and he felt his chest constrict with a selfish relief and aching realization that he wasn't here alone after all. He immediately moved over to her, pushing people out of the way unapologetically.
"Parker." He'd barely gotten the name out before he threw his arms around her.
Afternoon [Open]
Work at the 116 Emergency Center was boring as hell, especially since he'd been paired with a woman named Wanda who seemed to think that he was incapable of grasping the technology required to operate his computer. That might have partly been in part to the fact that he was playing dumb, but until he could find a way to get Wanda out of his hair so he could do some real work, he didn't want to give his cards away.
After what seemed like a painful lifetime, he was given a break and he headed out into the hallway, trying to access the reality show Parker was starring in on his PDC. When that didn't work, he began roaming the upper floor of the tower they called the Wagon Wheel, looking for a television or a computer not in use. All he needed was a few minutes...
Re: Hardison [for Parker and Open]
Story of his fucking life. " Sorry."
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He glanced up at the guy who had run into him. He looked a little shaken and as much as Hardison wanted to think it was because he was intimidated, he knew better.
"Hey, man. You alright?"
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Re: Hardison [for Parker and Open]
Everything about this place is wrong. Now Hardison's here, and that makes it more wrong. It's not right he's trapped here too, but the growling stops at the thought they've brought the best tech person to serve a computer that's holding them hostage.
The computer's going to lose.
The silence turns into a tiny bark of a laugh when he hugs her. It doesn't stop her from reciprocating, just a little. It's not a particularly good hug, but her hands need freedom at any possible moment.
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"Have you seen any of the others?" If they were here that meant that there was a good chance that Eliot, Nate and Sophie were as well, right?
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Natt Farrell | Open
Big time.
Maybe not as much as being shot or seeing his apartment blow up, or any of the other shit he'd been through in the last few days, and the cloning shit, had seemed much more believable with the look of the place beyond where he'd woken up. That and him being able to walk unhampered, although that could be attributed to highly advanced medical care.
But the brainwashing bullshit yesterday, and then he'd walked into the room he'd been assigned and okay, maybe it wasn't that bad. At least nobody had tried to kill him.
Yet.
And then came breakfast. The bricks of food had him eyeing them warily but when the whole Soylent Red thing came up?
Nope, not happening.
So it was brick food for him.
Great.
And then the whole working thing, majorly sucked. He'd been a freelancer for a goddamn reason and it was setting his own hours and working on his schedule. Granted it had cost him his apartment, his rig, and everything he owned basically, but still.
So breaktime had him escaping the damn office, and looking for some kind of coffee machine, something or anything that would provide him with something familiar beyond the team of brainwashed idiots who were apparently working in the same office as he'd been.
And okay, maybe someone who didn't look like they drank the Kool-Aid
Re: Natt Farrell | Open
Given that his current plan involved making enough friends that he could find the ones who might be able to lead him to some kind of underground, he was intent on establishing himself as the approachable type, so when he saw somebody heading down the corridor in his direction, he waved his hand in a mock salute.
"Hey."
Re: Natt Farrell | Open
"Hi?"
Re: Natt Farrell | Open
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dw didn't send a bunch of my replies ack
Re: dw didn't send a bunch of my replies ack
Re: dw didn't send a bunch of my replies ack
Natasha Romanoff | Open
Cloning.
Apparently that was the story they were going with, and Natasha doesn't have proof to say otherwise at the moment, although she skates on the cautiously skeptical side of anything she's told from the moment she first wakes up in an unfamiliar location, surrounded by strangers and fed a story that's too outlandish to believe. Which actually makes it potentially true, considering how her luck's been running in recent years, but she's still holding off judgement for the time being.
Still, she plays along for now, because when dropped in an unknown assignment with her memories altered (because why else would everything between morning training at HQ and waking up here be one giant blank space?), her first instinct is recon. Observe everything and everyone. Asses threats and potential dangers and then find a solution.
Although she makes a show of eating, and the wafer is certainly gone by the time the rest of the Troubleshooters head out of the cafeteria, she's not trusting anything else from this place until she has time to observe what is potentially harmful or not. Instead she uses the time to observe the others with RED clearance level, especially the ones labeled as specials like she was. The fact that they're resented by the others who aren't isn't missed, but to be expected if there's a sense of competition to be fostered here.
Debriefing goes smoothly as she slips into her role with seeming cooperation, and she heads for her assigned task - IntSec Threat Assessment - afterwards in the hopes of using the position to learn more from her own observations rather than what she's been spoon-fed so far.
[ Afternoon]
Her day is spent following that instinct. First is gathering as much of the information she can get her hands on in her work location, which seems to have a great deal of intel on this place and the people occupying it (fortunately for her). While reading the facts gives her one outlook on what she's supposed to think of this place and her position here, after becoming familiar with the layout and basic knowledge, she heads out to explore for herself, going on foot in search of information and understanding she can make from her own observations.
[ Evening]
Still, playing by the rules, Natasha is back in the complex of living quarters at the expected time. She's planning on sneaking out when most of the city falls to sleep, however, so she's mostly passing time, exploring this area as well, familiarizing herself with the layout and marking out potential escape routes for emergencies. Of course, the use of sleeping gas derails most of her extended plans - that was unexpected and unpleasant, but at least she'd been back in her room preparing for her late night venture when it happens, rather than caught outside somewhere.
Afternoon
And with that he shut the door and glanced down the hallway to find that he was not alone. He swallowed, taking in the woman in front of him. She also looked too familiar for comfort. He knew her from somewhere.
He nodded at her. Pretending he hadn't just been talking about bladder cancer. "Hey."
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Morning
Best to introduce himself, right? Since they're going to be sharing space and all that.
Right.
Witness Matt leave his place at the table and walk over to where Natasha is sitting. "Hi."
Yep, totally the most articulate person in the room.
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Dick Grayson | Open
Dick had been looking forward to being a techie, access to all those computers would definitely get him somewhere right? He could hack his way into the system and get to the bottom of what was really going on here, figure out if he was just trapped here or if this whole clone thing was the real deal, raise a little hell along the way... at least, that was the plan.
Apparently totalitarian governing computers were smarter than that, who knew? Because what he was actually doing was tech support, and that didn't mean unsupervised access to the system with all his usual gear and tools to hand in his trusty utility belt, it meant sitting in a room with a bunch of other people telling citizens all over the complex to try turning it off and turning it on again. Without his utility belt.
He wasn't about to give up, it just meant he had to wait a little longer, worm his way into people's confidences, find out if he could pick up any gear and rig up a makeshift utility belt, find out just how much those cameras recorded and if there was a way around them... if Dick knew people, and he had at least a small grounding in psychology, there would be underground groups, black markets, rebels and traitors all over, and if he was careful and sneaky he'd find a way to make contact and hey presto, havoc would be wreaked.
For now, he was leaning back in an office chair staring at the ceiling while he waited for another idiot who couldn't figure out how to press the right buttons on their equipment to come and complain at him about it.
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He sat down in an empty seat near a young looking kid who was staring up at the ceiling and slipped on a headset to look busy. He turned on the computer and was immediately greeted by a log in request. It was hard to work around it without his usual tools. He glanced over at his neighbor.
"Hey, man. I'm new. What's the log on again?"
He had ten minutes tops before Wanda said something.
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Sorry I held this up!
No worries!
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The tone is amused as Natasha slides into the room behind him, still working her way through exploring the complex, acquainting herself with locations and any people of interest. Which seems to be a guessing game in any of the places she stops in at, since just about everyone she's encountered so far is either clueless and new, or outright hostile and resentful.
She sinks into the chair at the empty terminal beside him and swivels in his direction, although her gaze is taking in her surroundings with an intent scan of her eyes.
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Stupid thing wasn't posting
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