If you follow, there may be a tomorrow

[warriorscribe]

Characters: Whoever signed up for the hacking plot, and Enoch in the pre-plot mingle, March 10th
Setting: Secret floor for briefing/mingle, and places with terminals for the actual hacking action
Format: Do what you want!
Summary: Enoch doesn't do tech, himself, but he sure as hell can find people that can. It's a mad scramble for Dax's research before time runs out!
Warnings: Things may happen to those involved, and there's no telling what they'll find...

*Everyone who offered their services to the cause will receive a letter in their mailbox (except Mitchell, whom Enoch will contact with whatever method he left him with):

It's time. Meet me in the place.

When everyone is gathered in the secret room, Enoch has to take a moment to take in the sight of this odd group, one of which has endangered his life personally and deliberately. But that didn't matter now, not now when their worlds were at stake.*

You already know what I've gathered you all for. This is strictly for finding what Dax has left us. We must try not to alert Ruana - she is always awake now, so this will be difficult. Do nothing that would immediately draw her attention - do not pursue anything related to her, or to the number thirty-seven. Try to mask your steps, and the others', as well as you can. My role here is as a scribe - I will be making rounds among you and transcribing what you have found, and carrying any messages you may have for the others among the group. We will not escape punishment for this. If you wish to back out now, you may. But this is for our worlds. Does anyone have any questions before we go?

Comments

[animusnpcs]

[The files inside are in a similar state to the other gibberish folder.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Not surprising. He goes back and attempts to right click on the first gibberish folder.]

[animusnpcs]

[It brings up a fairly standard menu for the file.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[He clicks on Properties, or whatever the equivalent is.]

[animusnpcs]

[The screen flickers and ENCRYPTED flashes across the screen.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

Of course you are.

[Richtofen mutters to himself and tries to look for some sort of password box or command prompt so that he can attempt to decrypt the files.]

[animusnpcs]

[It's possible to return to the command prompt screen.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[He goes back to the command prompt screen. Time to start trying random crap again.

--decrypt s'edizehrtleez,eolosiohede]

[animusnpcs]

[What happens next is certainly not standard computer behavior. While Richtofen will not actually go anywhere, appearing to everyone to still be sitting at the terminal, to Richtofen it appears as if the scenery melts out around him until he's floating in a black void with nothing but the terminal's screen and keyboard floating in front of him.

Decryption will begin. Are you ready (y/n)?]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Oh. Well, that's moderately unsettling. Richtofen casts a wary glance at all the nothingness around him, then types in a single letter.

y]

[animusnpcs]

[Do not look away from the screen. Do not close your eyes except to blink. Do not scream.

The darkness seems to shift and pulse around Richtofen, and there's the hum of a distant machine turning on. Then images and sensations flash through Richtofen's mind at a rapid pace. They're too quick to catch more than glimpses of, but it's as if he could see neurons firing, watch the pulses from each synapse, and the amount of information shooting through his mind is dully painful.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Richtofen only has a second to digest this before the flow of information starts. It's almost overwhelming having the information filter into his brain faster than he can think about it, and he has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out. He tastes the sharp tang of blood in his mouth, but he doesn't scream.

The omnipresent voices in his head, however, do the exact opposite. They flare up and yell at Richtofen in confusion and unrest, which makes his head go from "dully painful" to "throbbing ache." The voices are only audible to him, though, so hopefully they don't count.]

[animusnpcs]

[The world slows down after that, and the information flow subsides.

The void turns white and Richtofen is flung backward through space, the monitor and keyboard staying with him. The information flow returns. It's just slow enough that images can be processed--they run the gamut of emotional imagery, from the worst, most violent battlefields to the most emotionally intimate of bedroom encounters, happy-sad-angry-passionate-furious-suicidal-overjoyed over and over and over in an endless chorus.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Richtofen loses his breath as he's flung backward. He gulps down a thick mouthful of blood and spit, and his eyes twitch something fierce, but he refuses to shut them.

There's just so much of everything that he can't focus his thoughts. His stomach flutters like he wants to vomit or squirm or just plain burst into laughter, and it's such a confusing overlap that all he can do is stare with his lips twisted into an awkward smile.

He brings his hands up slowly, digging the heels of his palms into his temples. It does little to alleviate the pressure.]

[animusnpcs]

[The void flashes red now, and the emotions fade into the background for a moment. There's an instant of rest, but only that, before the emotions push forward again and entangle with the rapid information flow from earlier. Artificial neurons connecting emotions haphazardly, breaking off and dying when one proves to be superfluous or incorrect, learning and growing at a pace faster than any human. One voice into two voices into four into eight on and on until there are hundreds, thousands.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Richtofen is used to voices. Specifically, he's used to two voices. Grating and awful, yes, but familiar in a way that he's learned to deal with. These new voices, the hundreds of thousands all babbling over each other, leave him floored and entirely unprepared.

Because his body is unsure how to process it all, Richtofen doubles over a bit. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen, but drags his hands down his face until he's cupping over his mouth. He lets out an unsure, shaky bit of laughter, muffled by how hard his hands are digging into his face, and he blinks away tears, though if they're from mirth or sadness or rage, he's uncertain. There are too many overlapping emotions in his brain for him to be sure what he's feeling any more.

He just wants it to end already.]

[animusnpcs]

[Richtofen finds himself sitting at the terminal once more.

There is a list of files:

RUANA
RIKI
JASON
ZO
PROJECT R-037
Fiu½hiAofonh(s(aaofhe-nelnyl]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[As soon as Richtofen's surroundings go back to normal, he allows himself to slump over more fully. He continues to laugh to himself for a few minutes, giddy and high-pitched, shoulders shaking from the force of it. He pulls his hands away from his mouth, and his lips and palms are stained with the blood from his tongue.

His laughter rises in volume until, sharply, he cuts himself off.]

Well then! That was not so bad! Not bad at all! [He looks around at the others nearby, a wild look in his eye.] This is real progress!

[He whips back around to look at his screen, and quickly selects PROJECT R-037.]

[animusnpcs]

[> R-037
> COLLAR SCHEMATICS
> CHIPS
> DISTRIBUTION METHOD 1
> DISTRIBUTION METHOD 2
> FAILSAFE]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[This is easy enough. He'll just go down the list.

R-037]

[animusnpcs]

Retrieval unit selected based on ease of access (Ruana never asks for R-037) and maybe some sense of irony. Unit was subjected to collar modification; this leaves a noticeable mark, which is regrettable for more secretive work, but does make things easier for my own purposes. Disabled growth reset modifiers and allowed her to learn at my side.

Development of individual personality is rapid. Views me as a father figure, for better or worse, and is capable of repeating her collar modification procedure on other units.

[doctor_dismemberment]

Here we go...

[Richtofen rubs his fingers over his mouth (which smears more blood on his face, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care) and hums. A noticeable mark on the collar, capable of repeating the same process on other units... Yes, that would explain the strange new retrieval unit that started following him a few months back.

That's useful, but he can't dwell on it too long. He goes back and selects COLLAR SCHEMATICS. Now that sounds interesting.]

[animusnpcs]

[A blueprint appears. It details how the collars are built and put together--seams, screws, etc. It does not detail the programming or fluid.]

[doctor_dismemberment]

[Oh, yes. Beautiful, perfect. Richtofen leans in close, eyes alight with intrigue. The engineer side of him is overblown with glee. Without taking his gaze off of the screen, he waves Enoch over.]

Enoch! Come here, copy this down. [He runs his tongue over his bloody teeth and grins while their scribe does his handwaved work.] Das ist sehr gut! Danke, Dax, danke...

[Once he's finished scrutinizing the blueprints and committing most of it to memory, he selects CHIPS.]

[animusnpcs]

[There's a basic schematic for what appear to be tiny computer chips. It appears they emit a frequency that resonates with other, similar computer chips and creates something similar but not quite like an electromagnetic pulse.

It requires materials that would be impossible to find in the residential areas of the Tower.]