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  #1  
Old Nov 25th, 2023, 09:18 PM
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The Day the Science Died

Navy Pier, January 1957
Farrah Marshall
It's a cold, Chicago day today, the sharp teeth of winter tearing through anyone foolish enough to go without a coat, but that's done little to still the excitement in the air. The pier's been turned into something of a carnival, with rides, stalls, and street vendors all looking to take advantage of the influx of people. Some might bitterly muse that Olympus could have chosen a warmer day to make its big reveal, but the throngs of people provide a warmth of their own.

The sun has long since crossed its zenith, but still has a ways to go before it even gets close to dark. Olympus Corp promised to make their big reveal soon, so the masses have begun to congregate near the lake, but there are still plenty of people walking around everywhere.

Olympus Power rented out an entire two-story building for their staff to celebrate, giving them all a front row seat to the presentation. While your uncle didn’t have enough clout to gain access to the second level reserved for VIPs, just the fact that you’re able to get this close to the action is exciting enough. They’ve got a fully stocked wet bar, a whole line up of B-list performers playing music on a small but well built stage, and perhaps most exciting for you, an entire room filled with scientists, engineers, and other brilliant minds. This is a day of celebration, a triumph of science, and proof of the power of knowledge.

You’ve scarcely had time to take it all in when you hear a deeper voice call out, "Aaron, brother, how’s the day treated you so far?" You and your uncle both instinctively turn towards the voice to see a dark skinned man with short cropped hair and wide brimmed glasses. He’s wearing a suit that looks something like a cross between a business suit and a lab coat, which might look ridiculous on some, but he somehow manages to make look not only professional, but elegant.

"Aha, mister Williams," your uncle immediately replies, a smile on his face, and sticks his hand out, which the stranger immediately accepts and earnestly shakes. "So glad to see you today."

"You actually think I’d miss this? After six years of labor, math, and bad coffee? Not on your life!" his eyes turn towards you, his smile nearly reaching from ear to ear. "And who is this charming lady you’ve brought with you?"

"This is my niece, Farrah." He gives you a gentle nudge forward before continuing, "Farrah, this is Michael Williams. He’s one of the lead designers for the MURD. Without him, we’d still be banging rocks together to make sparks."

"Oh, come now, give them some credit at least," Michael responds, "they’d have at least invented flint and steel by now! But in any case, it is nice to meet you, Farrah."
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Old Nov 28th, 2023, 06:13 AM
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Pierside With Peerless Company
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
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Finest Blue Dress
All dolled up in her finest blue dress and pearl earrings, Farrah cuts a very lady-like image. The dress isn't revealing other than falling to mid-calf. Its satin sheen catches the errant lights of the festivities quite well. She's decided on only having a pair of alcoholic beverages while at the event. It wouldn't do for her to be disorderly in the slightest.

She chats with her uncle as they start to get situated. Uncle Aaron mentions a few engineers and scientists he recognizes while Farrah
Dice Investigation via Well Informed:
1d20+15 (19)+15 Total = 34
points out a handful of authors, local politicians and socialites that she recognizes from OOC: The paper/film covers on books used to display decorative covers and author's summaries.dust jackets and newspaper clippings. Though they may not be on the exclusive second floor, there are enough people of note down here to keep them buzzing.

Farrah is just about to ask her stocky uncle about how many raffle tickets he and her mother bought in order to get into such an event when a voice calls out from behind them. They turn to find a dashing man who pulls off a rather eccentric outfit. It seems that Mister Williams goes to even functions like this with a capability of focusing on science, a perfect blend of form and function. His expression transitions from a broad, easy smile to one of intense contemplation effortlessly.

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Michael Williams
Michael compliments her and she can't help but blush slightly. When she is introduced, rather than offering her hand, Farrah sticks with the somewhat fading tradition of curtseying. She raises her semi-pleated skirt with either gloved hand and says, "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Williams." She gives a gentle laugh at the mention of him being the difference between breakthroughs and caveman behavior.

Farrah adds, "Though your name may not proceed you, your reputation might. My dear uncle has mentioned a well-spoken man who was focused on achieving results rather than worrying about who gets the acclaim. Are you the one I should credit for allowing uncle Aaron to get his work done when others made it difficult?" She gives a warm, if muted, smile of her own. Miss Marshall has an extensive vocabulary but a quiet voice and manner, easily trampled if she were to speak with someone who allowed no words in edgewise.

Ever the polite lady, she allows the two men to direct the conversation. She sips her drink and participates until her chance to bring up a topic. With a gesture to Michael's attire, she inquires, "So Mister Williams, is this ensemble on account of you needing to work this evening or are you free to socialize?"

There is a moment of hesitation and a far-off look on the man's face as he considers unknown quantities. Farrah thinks little of it. Surely a project lead has many things to consider on such an important night. If anything, she finds this man's introspection and charm refreshing. He's already thought more than the last three dates of hers combined.
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Last edited by ArcZero; Nov 28th, 2023 at 10:13 AM.
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Old Nov 28th, 2023, 12:46 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Michael Williams
Your uncle seems quite impressed by your apparent knowledge of whose who, and it quickly becomes clear that you may even know more of the attendees than Aaron himself! He seems a bit embarrassed about that, but the redness in his cheeks vanish as Michael approaches. As you introduce yourself with a curtsey, Michael gives an approving nod. "Good to meet such a well-mannered lady. Your parents must be very proud."

"They're not the only ones, " Aaron replies, beaming, "She may very well be the jewel of the family."

"I wouldn't doubt it. But your uncle gives me too much credit. Truth be told, this is one of the best group of people I've had the honor of working with. We had a few disagreements that needed moderation, true, but the vast majority of them were work related, and those that weren't were extinguished quickly. It truly is miraculous what people can accomplish when they're able to put aside their differences. Never forget that."

The two then turn to discussion of recent events, as well as family matters. You learn that he actually came from a fairly poor family, but his mother won it big playing the numbers game, and they were able to put the money towards giving him a top notch education. Sadly, his mother passed away before she could see him succeed, but his father is alive and well, and couldn't be prouder. He also used to be quite big in the African-American community, but had to step back to focus more on the project. Now that the MURD is nearing completion, Michael is looking forward to getting involved with the community again, perhaps creating an outreach program to help inquisitive minds get the mental nourishment they need and deserve.

When you ask about his attire and availability, Michael pulls out his pocket watch, and frowns. "I'm supposed to be overseeing the initiation sequence of the Multi-Universal Rift Device, which is supposed to occur immediately after Bruce Luthor's speech, which is..."

"Good evening, people of Chicago, as well as those who traveled near and far to be here today."

A booming voice sounds through the intercom, catching you (as well as several others) by surprise. Michael sighs. "Speak of the devil. The crew can probably handle things without me, but it would be poor optics for me not to be present. We'll have to conclude after the presentation. Perhaps we can get some drinks together tonight, to celebrate the occasion. It was good to see you, Aaron, and wonderful to meet you, Farrah." he gives a final respectful nod before turning briskly away, as the speech carries on around you.

"My name is Bruce Luthor, and I am proud to have served as the Vice President of Planning at Olympus Power for the past nine years. During that time, we’ve taken our company from a small, local power company, to the cutting edge of electrical technology! We’ve always believed that sometimes you have to run before you can walk, but we’re not running today, we’re leaping! Leaping out of this era, and into the next, from a world of finite resources into one of infinite possibility! Today, I have the honor of presenting you with the Multi-Universal Rift Device!"

"Well, Farrah," Aaron begins, resting his hand on your shoulder, "Shall we go get a drink? Or would you like to go see the unveiling up close?"
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Last edited by Boss Nadar; Nov 28th, 2023 at 12:48 PM.
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Old Nov 29th, 2023, 07:32 AM
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Pierside With Peerless Company II
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
Farrah blusters at the barrage ofcompliments. She has to take a deep breath and says, "Thank you, but you are too kind. M-many of the Marshalls are more impressive than I." She casts her gaze downward, not wanting to blush any further. When Michael speaks of the company without an ill word to say and how much he believes in their team, Farrah is bowled over. She looks back up with pensive admiration, "Wonderfully said sir. How does it go? 'Render unto Olympus the things that are Olympus', and unto God the things that are God's?'" Working a gospel reference into the conversation leaves her with her most playful expression yet.

She listens with interest to the story of his youth and turning a vice like gambling and betting into something good. Despite her reminders, there are still a few members of her own family that play the numbers game. Forgetting to say anything about herself, Farrah says, "A man after my own heart, engaged in charity. Let's hopethings go well tonight so that you're able to do just that, Mister Williams."

When the offer is made to join him for drinks later, Farrah's mind practically goes blank. He's asking her to meet again later for drinks? Surely that shows the earnestness of his intentions. Farrah doesn't realize she's clutching her drink and staring until Uncle Aaron nudges her and whispers, "Go on girl, it's not every day a man like that crosses your path." Uncle Aaron may be a gentle soul himself, but if even he is encouraging her, she must have little to lose.

She calls out in a thready voice, "Of-of course sir, I'd be delighted..."

Feeling quite foolish for not parsing the situation much sooner, she consoles herself with a hearty sip. Seeing that, her uncle asks if they should get another drink or get a closer look. Farrah laments her foolishness again and says, "I fear I've done enough with just the one drink. How about we take a closer look? I admit Mister Williams's words leave me intrigued."

Though she wasn't feeling the festivities before, she's mysteriously in the mood now. Uncle Aaron sighs slightly and gives the girl a one-armed hug and pat on her back, "You haven't ruined anything my dear. Just be yourself." Meanwhile his gaze lingers on the libations. A hard working company man, he is also the sort to fully enjoy a company function. Another drink or three would have been right by him.
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Last edited by ArcZero; Nov 29th, 2023 at 07:43 AM.
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Old Nov 29th, 2023, 12:18 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Bruce Luthor
Despite your uncle's disappointment, the two of you trace Michael's steps towards the main event. It seems you are not the only one that thought to do the same, as you find yourself merging with a large crowd of people all eager to get as close as possible to the main stage. Once you finally squeeze your way in, you see a well dressed older gentleman standing in front of what appears to be an oversized door frame, nearly ten feet tall and six feet wide. To the side is a team of engineers and scientist tweaking dials and levers on a connected console. Michael is already there, overseeing the operation.

"This device, which we’ve dubbed the MURD, will allow us to harness the power contained not in just a single planet, not just a single galaxy, but an entire universe!"

Bruce Luthor is a skilled orator, the audio over the speakers doing his fiery voice a great injustice. He punctuates every emphasized word with a thrust of his hand, or a sweep of the arm. At every crescendo in his speech, the audience rallies a mighty cheer. As he speaks, the device behind him begins to power up, innumerous flashing lights on the side giving indecipherable information about its status.

"History's about to be made, Farrah," Aaron whispers from behind you, "Make sure you take notes. Maybe you can write a book about it one day." His voice is teasing, but only slightly. From the engineering corner, Michael spots you in the crowd, granting you a faint smile and a nod of recognition before turning back to the consoles before him.

"Even a single universe’s power would be enough to power the human race for a thousand generations, but sometime in the future, we will have dozens of these machines, each drawing power from one of an infinite number of other universes-With the power of the MURD, Olympus Power will have safe, reliable power for the entire world in perpetuity!"

The crowd is electrified with energy, but as the device continues to power up, so is the air. The hair on your head suddenly feels buoyant, as though you had picked up a great deal of static electricity. The excitement in the air is contagious, but then you notice something worrisome-one of the flashing lights on the device has switched from green to red.
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Old Nov 30th, 2023, 06:06 AM
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MusicAccompanying Music.
The Unveiling
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
Walking into the crowd, the impressiveness of Mr. Luthor's voice is palpable here: he seems like an old school orator trained along with the greats. Every bit of him fits the "grand industrial era" this project represents. Is the device just beyond this massive door? She notices Michael working on the contraptions.

Her uncle tells her to pay close attention and she nods obediently, for who would want to miss this? She gives a bashful smile at him suggesting she could write a book. She wouldn't know the first thing to say. No, she doesn't aspire to such things. She is content with her lot in life.

When Michael looks at her with that pleasant air of his, she wants to help him in any way she can. She can say a prayer of thanks! She begins quietly, simply mouthing the words with hands clasped.

"Blessed are you, Sovereign God,
ruler and judge of all,
to you be praise and glory forever."


Mr. Luthor's gravitas grows and Farrah beams at the ingenious works of man that bring glory to God. The static builds in her hair and she feels a manic edge to the excitement: it's almost too breathtaking to be comfortable. Still, she carries on with her prayer, now audible to Uncle Aaron and herself alone.

"In the darkness of this age that is passing away
may the light of your presence which the saints enjoy
surround our steps as we journey on."


Her breath hitches in her throat. She feels glued to the spot and yet she keeps praying louder. Little by little Luthor's words have skewed into vanity. Farrah vaguely wonders about the ethics of taking another universe's energy.

Is this such a marvelous thing or is it the height of hubris: the wicked theft from the Garden of Eden? As the switch flicks from green to red, Farrah's face stays trained on Michael's, hoping he can contain this unease she feels. Her hand reaches out for her uncle's as she struggles to finish the prayer. Her voice rings hollow.

"May we reflect your glory this day
and so be made ready to see your face...
in the heavenly city where night shall be no... more."
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Last edited by ArcZero; Nov 30th, 2023 at 06:14 AM.
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Old Dec 1st, 2023, 10:50 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Bruce Luthor
Aaron gives you a reassuring squeeze as you reach for his hand, though the expression on his face suggest he's ignorant to what you've noticed. Several more lights switch from green to red, and you notice an increase in activity from Michael and his crew-no longer simply observing and flicking the occasional switch, they are furiously working away with every knob, button, and switch they can reach. Ignorant to the chaos behind him, Mr. Luthor continues his speech.

"Providing the world with the power of the gods. That’s always been our motto. Today, we actualize that promise. Today, we mark a new era of surplus and plenty for all. Today, we are all Olympians!"

The red lights have now started appearing on the engineer's console, and an audible hum of dissenting voices is now coming from them. Several others in the crowd also seem to have noticed as well, and the excited cheers have begun to give way to worried murmurs. Ignorant of the surrounds, Mr. Luthor pulls out a small switch, a wire tracing it back to the machine behind him.

"Without further ado, Let! There! Be! LIIIGHT!"

"Sir, wait!" Michael calls out, concern plastered on his face, but it is too late. With all the gravitas he can muster, Mr. Luthor flips the switch. The empty doorframe immediately fills with a bright light. A loud humming comes from the device, which switches to a thunderous roar. Just before everything goes white, Aaron throws himself in front of you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You feel the shockwave that comes next even through Aarons much larger frame, lifting you and the rest of the crowd off their feet.

Time seems to slow to a crawl as you tumble through the air, the bright light engulfing you making it impossible to see more than a few feet around you. You feel weightless and warm, as if floating through a pool of water on a hot summer day, and the air itself feels electrified.

Eventually, however, time catches up with you, and you find yourself hurling through the air. Barely conscious, you vaguely acknowledge the small Ferris wheel beneath you. The pier gets closer and closer, and for a moment you fear you survived the initial blast only to fall to your death, but something gives you a final push in the air, and you nearly dodge the pier, crashing into the frigid waters instead with a violent splash. The cold water immediately sucks the air from your lungs, your momentum dragging you to the bottom of the water almost immediately. Everything hurts, and your lungs burn for oxygen, but you're alive-for now.


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Old Dec 2nd, 2023, 03:00 PM
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MusicAccompanying Music.
The Unveiling II
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
The increasing number of red lights and commotion only vindicates Farrah's unease. Quiet as Farrah can be, she occasionally gets a sense of things being not quite right even when others take no notice. It may be what kept her from making bad friends or helped in avoiding the type of bullying her sister and siblings received.

Is it still faith if it is a belief that a bad thing will happen? What if that event is destined by God? Lot, convinced of Sodom's banality, knew it was wrong but could not bring himself to move until God urged him to do so. Funnily enough, as a great flash of white covers all, Farrah thinks of this parable. Of Lot's wife turning to salt, him helpless to stop her from looking. Uncle Aaron's arms find her. Incredibly tragic gratitude swells within her breast.

Soon after, she finds herself drifting through a gentle expanse. There is little awareness of time or any human wants. Only weightlessness and static warmth. The woman enjoys her time here, wondering if this is what death is like. She can feel a vague presence all around her; is that God's love or simply other myriad souls drifting in the air about her? Where... where is her Uncle? Wonderful Uncle Aaron?

All at once she is ripped back to life with a rush of wind and spiraling vision. Consciousness fading she can barely make out tiny structures, a toy-sized Ferris wheel. With horror she realizes that is the large Ferris wheel from the event they were just at. It hurtles its way into view. By the grace of God she manages to just miss the pier only to plunge into ice cold water. So swiftly she is taken from the finest embrace of the universe to her deepest fear. Farrah sinks swiftly as if some great weight is dragging her to the bottom. Most of her breath is lost to the shrill cold as
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fear rends her apathy to nothing. Even in her weakness she somehow doesn't crumble entirely. A lifetime of failed swimming lessons and near-drownings consume her thoughts! Thoughts of heaven are far away now as a terrible pressure beats at her lungs. In perfect time to her heartbeat, her vision shrinks to the size of a pinhole.

Air. AIR. The still functioning part of her brain tries to pierce the bone deep fear: "Farrah, you need to get out of this or you. Will. Die."

An image of her Uncle throwing himself in front of her stirs her heart. Even in his last moments, he sacrificed himself without question. Might he still be alive? What about her darling siblings, her parents? Their loving faces surround her and she realizes that she needs to at least try. For them. Weakly, Farrah kicks her feet and
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tries to do what she has failed to do in so many lessons.
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Last edited by ArcZero; Dec 2nd, 2023 at 03:13 PM.
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Old Dec 3rd, 2023, 03:11 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Michael Williams

Overcoming your fear is an impressive feat on its own, but all the courage in the world won't be enough without the skills to back it, and you quickly find yourself floundering. Your own natural buoyancy is doing more to bring you to the surface than you are, and as your vision begins to blacken, you realize that it won't be enough. As you start to lose hope, you feel a tug at the hem of your dress, and you are suddenly being dragged upwards. As the figure reaches the surface, an arm wraps around your neck, and pulls you up the rest of the way.

You start gasping for air the instant your mouth clears the waterline, splotches in your vision making it difficult to even make out the face of your rescuer. The only thing you can feel is the comforting warmth of the air above the water...wait, warmth? In January? As your senses start to return, you turn to see the pier aflame, the heat pouring upon you like a massive bonfire. The damage doesn't seem to have stopped there, and as your gaze turns west towards the city proper, you see destruction on a grand scale-buildings burning and on fire, badly injured people carrying even more injured people to safety, and bodies everywhere. You wonder for a moment if this is what it was like in Hiroshima.

Then you remember your rescuer, and you turn back to see the familiar face of Michael Williams, his glasses lost in the chaos, and his outfit badly tattered. Though he says nothing, the pained look on his face tells you more than you ever wanted to know.
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Old Dec 4th, 2023, 05:58 PM
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The Unveiling III
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
As her feet fail to find purchase, her vision is shrouded in darkness. Farrah is fraying at the seams. It is only when she's pulled out by Michael that she realizes there's sludge-like tar or ink all over him and her! She looks down at her arms and tarnished dress to find streaks of it running down, seemingly from her head. She takes a finger to wipe away the charcoaly ink that turns to a tarry paste in all this water. Head feeling fuzzy, she asks slowly, "Is this? Blood?"

She gazes up through bleary eyes and is eventually able to blink enough to see Michael, her rescuer. She exclaims and goes to wrap her arms around his shoulders with a sullen, "Thank you so much, Mister Williams! I owe you my life. Are you okay? What's happened? There was that awful flash of light..." Innocent though she may be, the debris-covered bodies slowly make themselves known to her and she brings a shaky hand to her face. Her head feels so heavy and her immaculately curled hair is ruined, hanging limply against her neck.

All she can think of is her uncle in tatters, alone and under rubble. She raises a hand plaintively to Michael, "Please, where is my uncle? Where is Aaron?"

Her worry swirls about until it snaps and a floodgate of emotion pours into her. Guilt, grief, horror at these lives lost! An irresistible itch at the base of her neck forces her to twitch and she scratches at it, wanting to not be so overwhelmed. Normally she does everything to be a contained young woman, but she simply can't hold this. These feelings are going into too many directions, ripping her apart.

She cannot bring herself to look at him, she's so full of foreign shame and fury. Bringing a fist to the ground, she feels forced to the head of a storm. Like the figurehead on the prow of a ship, she is pinioned there, facing the tumult of a hundred people's emotions. They rage and want her to get even, to find her uncle and save him. The only thing containing her is the fact that Michael is right there. Even this isn't enough though and she slackens into him, unable to comprehend or handle what's happening to her.

When she goes limp, the emotion pours out of her into two new forms. Two extra people to help lighten her burden, they take up a huge amount of this unbearable weight. She OOC: Mental Linked Duplicateslooks back at herself laying in Michael's arms and thinks, "That poor girl... rest now." The way Michael is looking up at her, he's clearly confused and yet making sense of the impossible event before him: there are now three Farrahs. Though with his jaw-slackened reaction, these two new ones may look imperfect, unnatural or simply look like ghosts for all she knows. It does make her feel eerie, so she presses off to find her uncle in the rubble. The other new her does the same, leaving the engineer holding the third. What could any man do in such a strange situation? Let one go to stop the others?

Her sense of self is distorted, thinking very little of what any of this means: it's simply happening in a daze, like a montage of events ocurring all at once. She climbs a half broken set of stairs trying to get a better vantage point and calls out, "Uncle Aaron!" She lays in Michael's arms and rests, weary. She rushes up to the nearest body in rubble and tries to clear it away from them to see who it is.
OOCJust having fun with how her powers would emerge in this situation. Let me know if accidentally showing this power to Michael is not how this should work.
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Old Dec 5th, 2023, 04:50 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Michael Williams

Michael turns towards you weakly as you talk, his expression mixed of shock and sorrow. "You're okay, which is more than a lot of people can say. Take it easy, I don't see any signs of serious injury, but there may be internal bleeding..." He move to start examining you, then pulls away as if bit. Whether he saw something concerning or he's just having second thoughts about laying his hands in such a way on a woman you aren't certain, but after only a moment of hesitation further, he leans back in, running his hands against your arms to search for broken bones and other less obvious injuries.

"I don't know where your uncle is," he replies as his hands move to the back of your head, "but he's a strong fellow, I'm sure he-oh!" He pulls his hand back, now covered the strange ink like substance. At first, his face is one of confusion, but once he realizes its not blood, he visibly relaxes.

"All things said and done, you got out pretty lucky. Just wait here, I'm going to see if I can-sweet Jesus!" Michael nearly flies back as your duplicates emerge, imperfect, with some features exaggerated and others subdued, but clearly Farrah to anyone comparing the two. For the first time, Michael seems genuinely and completely speechless. Even the MURD explosion he had seemed to take in stride, though it clearly shook him up. This was something new, something inexplicable, the brilliant man finally encountering something that could not be reasoned out.

Your clones spread out, searching for traces of your uncle. Ultimately, it is the beachbound clone that succeeds, spotting his body washing ashore, his face and upper body covered in blood. The rising and falling of his chest confirms that he is still alive, but his breathing is shallow and irregular.

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  #12  
Old Dec 8th, 2023, 07:59 AM
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The Unveiling IV
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
Michael's hesitation at touching her makes sense, but Farrah makes no atttempt to move away. She recognizes this is a time for prudence and on top of the shock she is preoccupied with the metaphysics of their situation: what happened with the launch? Were they smote by God or was it merely bad luck?

He observes that she's lucky to be alive. The arithmetic of how many people were in this area and now aren't can't be completed in Farrah's mind. Despite the heat, rubble, bodies, sirens and general commotion, there being hundreds less people here than there should be is incomprehensible to the mild-mannered woman. She catches less than half of what Michael says.

Her emotions continue to swell, her very being overflowing like a cup past what surface tension can contain. Two, then three and finally four more distorted copies of her emerge. They scramble over the rubble, desperate to find her uncle. A seventh one emerges only to flail and fall to the ground. It warbles and then pops like a smoke-filled bubble. The black, powdery smoke disperses easily in the air, leaving nothing behind.

As they desperately search, Farrah looks up to see Michael's bewildered face. Six extra hers seem to be containing her emotions well enough that some clarity returns to her eyes. A weird moment of peace and contemplation forms between Michael and Farrah (her doing the impossible and him witnessing it and being okay). Unfortunately for both of them, this is nothing like the flirtatious rendezvous that was intended to take place after the unveiling. Michael's presence as another caring, reasoning mind is the only thing keeping her from languishing in solipsistic pain.

Then one of her comes across Aaron's supine body on the beach. Blue-green eyes widening, she lets out an astonished breath that carries all of her hope and anguish, "I, we, umm I found him, Mister Williams. Oh no. I need to go..." Her eyes flicker like they're seeing a scene very different than what's in front of her. Shakily, she tries to get to her feet.

She adds as she staggers forward a few feet, "He's breathing but he's covered in blood... could you... please take a look?" Her expression is pleading. Michael's no doctor, but the confidence with which he inspected her gives hope.
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Last edited by ArcZero; Dec 8th, 2023 at 01:05 PM.
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  #13  
Old Dec 8th, 2023, 10:22 PM
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Navy Pier, January 1957
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Michael Williams

All grace and confidence is drained from Michael's face as you continue to self replicate. Curiously, however, there is no fear either; what you see is the expression of confusion and wonder, of a man seeing something he knows to be impossible, yet cannot disprove. It takes a few attempts, but eventually you are able to pull him back to reality by mentioning your wounded uncle.

"I... uh, yes. I can, I can certainly take a..." Finally, his wits catch up to him, and with a final sigh, he managed to pick his jaw up from off the ground. "Show me where he is, and I'll see what I can do." He is ominously silent as one of your clones leads him there, his gaze somehow focused on you and yet simultaneously through you.

Any doubts that might have begun to form in your mind about him are quickly dashed, however, once he gets to the site. With a frown, he bends down, removing his tattered jacket without a second thought. "It's not exactly sterile, but it'll have to do." Without so much as a second thought, he tears his jacket into strips, and begins wrapping the most obvious wounds up. "Emergency vehicles will be coming soon, no way they didn't hear that from across the city. Can you... one of you... someone needs to flag down the ambulance when they come, to let them know they're needed down here. He's not in great shape, but the good news is it looks worse than it is. But if we don't get him real medical assistance soon, it could get worse."

"Farrah..." a weak moan rises from Aaron's throat. "Is she... *cough* is she..."

"She's fine, Aaron," Michael replies, glancing up at you briefly. "she's here. Save your strength"


Aaron groans in response. "It... shouldn't have been... possible."

"None of us could hav-" Michael pauses as a thought seems to cross his mind, one that clearly makes him uncomfortable. "The explosion was no one's fault."

Aaron only shakes his head "Not that *cough* ...after. She was... too far... I..." his voice fades away as his brief moment of lucidity vanishes. Michael gives you a queer look, but before he can say more, the sounds of approaching sirens snaps you both back to the task at hand.

"Lets get your uncle the help he needs." Michael goes back to bandaging what he can. "Oh, and Farrah? You may want to leave your... doppelgangers out of sight. I'm not sure either one of us wants to try to explain them to the emergency workers. Or can, for that matter."

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Old Dec 12th, 2023, 07:50 AM
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The Unveiling V
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Farrah, Character Sheet Above
Farrah is so grateful for the rapid sacrifice Michael makes of his coat. She goes to her knees beside her uncle, Michael and the clone that found him. The others stand in a semi-circle with vaguely less emotionally invested eyes. While they share a mind and personality, these copies of her seem lesser in some intangible way. Regardless, the sight of their uncle bloodied stokes new anxiety in all their hearts and a vague smell of saltpeter and sulfur fills the air.

As the Farrahs watch Michael bandage, they start popping out of existence in the order the were created, starting with the one that was first on the scene. The original looks over concerned at the sounds and rapidly dissipating smoke. Suddenly she is hit by a wall of returned emotion. Her breathing quickens and she grasps desperately at her uncle's hand to steady herself. Fearing the previous well of emotions with hardly the resolve to face it, she has little choice but to let go of trying to contain it. Six new Farrahs emerge in quick succession. They take heed of Michael's suggestion to flag down the ambulance and three of them go in vaguely Western directions to look for help.

Aaron's words snap the attention of the four remaining pairs of Farrah's eyes lock onto his every move. Her hearts falter and each of them choke out a different reassurance, "Oh my dear Uncle." "You did everything you could!" "You saved my life, that's all I could hope for." "Please, save your strength..."

All of these sets of eyes and minds seeing this same tragic event is far too much for Farrah. Her hair starts to fizzle and pop with yellow-pink sparks. In a quickly growing torrent, It seems each strand is alight. The signature sound of a dynamite fuse builds to a cacophany in her ears. A lifetime of exaggerated films with damsels in distress makes it all too clear what will happen if she stays.

It's too cruel. Knowing that she needs to run from her uncle when he needs her most only accelerates the dwindling of her countless fuses. The coarse hair burns perilously closer to her head. One of her clones also starts to spark and she too rushes to her feet to run away. The remaining two doppelgangers drop to their knees, drawing closer to Uncle Aaron. They frantically shut their eyes, trying to block it all out and be there for her loved one. They just barely manage to weather the storm. The two ignited Farrahs run for cover away from anyone they can see before... whatever is about to happen happens. This entire situation is impossible, but her instincts leave no room for second guessing. They get just far enough away before heavy explosions resound with a concentrated flash of yellow-pink light followed by rippling waves of black smoke. New debris tumbles forth with OOC: A rank 6 and rank 3 explosion with 60 foot radii each.what remains of the devastated buildings crumpling.

The reflections of the explosions fill Michael's eyes as he watches in horrified fascination. Unavoidable calculations of force going through his mind. This may be nothing compared to the MURD meltdown, but the undeniably human origin of these explosions make them fascinating in an entirely different way.

Once the smoke clears, Farrah lays there
Dice Fortitude:
1d20+2 (8)+2 Total = 10
OOC: Her defenses aren't active like this.
alive but weakened. In a daze, she slowly recovers and fearfully listens at a distance to Michael saying that the extra Farrahs should make themselves scarce. She doesn't understand it but she knows that in her current state she's nothing but a danger to these two brave men. Dejected, she says loud enough for him to hear, "I'm sorry Mister Williams, but I don't think I can go with him. What's happening to me, it's too dangerous."

He's already done so much, she can't possibly ask Michael to do more. The Farrah next to him, on the other hand, has no such compunction. With a glare, she moves into Michael's field of view and demands with no small amount of embarassment on the original Farrah's face, "Heavens to Betsy, will you go with him? We can't do it and that just leaves you. Just to make sure he's checked in. We'd be mighty grateful." This Farrah shows the first sign of independence from her creator.

Farrah Prime wallows in her pity, feeling that this curse on herself is from God or perhaps the devil. It's the weight of her sin. She hasn't OOC: For Methodists, salvation is a continual process of self improvement in order to draw closer to God. It rests firmly between the old school Catholics who can only find salvation through their deeds and the new age folk who think all it takes is a baptism and belief to cleanse one of their sins.done enough yet to be saved. The severity of the lives lost and still in jeopardy really settle onto her conscience now. As painful as it may be to be unable to sit by her uncle's side, there is work here she can do. As the sound of an ambulance draws close, Farrah bids farewell to the still stupefied Michael. Her earnest hug says more than her feeble words ever could. Then she turns to the rubble, letting a fresh set of selves depart in different directions looking for people to save. For those unconscious that she finds, two or three Farrahs work together to haul them into reach of the steadily growing number of medical workers before they retreat or vanish unseen into smoke.

Two hours later, Farrah is absolutely exhausted. With a few more unwitting explosions under her belt and a dozen people saved, she hauls herself to a bus stop. Too tired for a single new clone or scrap of smokey hair to emerge, she takes her seat quietly at the back of the bus. Those onboard give the soot covered woman with the tattered dress a healthy distance.
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Last edited by ArcZero; Dec 12th, 2023 at 09:59 AM.
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