Glamour Failure

[animusmods]

Characters: any
Setting: all around the Tower
Format: any/party-style
Summary: A general mingle log for the reaction to the beginning of the Idealism event.
Warnings: PG-13; please include any more detailed warnings in your threads if necessary

Comments

[animusnpcs]

[There is a manila folder buried beneath the sapling.]

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch gasps on seeing the folder, and quickly works to dig it out. After turning it over in his hands, he gets up and tucks it under his arm, making his way quickly towards the dormitory restrooms. He doesn't know what he'll see, and part of him wonders if the cameras still even work. But he goes for the safety anyway, closing himself in a stall if there are stalls or slumping against the wall if they aren't. Only then does he carefully, very carefully, open the envelope.*

[animusnpcs]

[There's a sheet of film, along with a handwritten note. The film appears blank for the moment.]

My research. It's not complete, but it should allow you to find the rest. You probably can't see it right now--don't worry, there's a fourth power system that will turn everything back on, more or less. But it won't last long--you'll have about a year. If I could have done this another way, I would have, but the fourth power system lacks the ability to power the systems that have been keeping all of the pre-disaster information from you secret.

Remember: once the power comes back on, one year before even the administrative systems turn off. This file will need to be decoded after the glamour system turns back on.

This is the final message I've left, and I hope you've found it. I would like to apologize for this situation. None of you deserved this. Thank you for granting me empathy. It meant more to me than I think you'll realize just yet.

Good luck,
Dax

[warriorscribe]

*Thank you for granting me empathy.

Enoch mouths those words, once, twice. Instinctively he folds the note and holds it close, so the tears sliding down his face won't damage it - even if he's not really crying at all.

He begins to sob quietly, deep, damp gasps the most audible noise. He mouths Dax's name, but no sound comes out to back it. Dax, Dax, you poor man. You should have lived to express it more.

Ten long minutes later, he emerges with the envelope in hand, and goes to room 3-18 before all else. After eyeing the pod that was his bed, he slips the film beneath everything else in the trunk, a mess of film, and goes out to find someone. Several someones.*