computation | IC Contact

import time
import random

def fake_hacking():
print("Initializing system breach...")
time.sleep(1)
print("Bypassing security protocols...")
time.sleep(2)
print("Establishing connection to server...")
time.sleep(1)

for i in range(10):
print(f"Accessing file {random.randint(1000,9999)}.dat... Success")
time.sleep(0.5)

print("Decrypting files...")
for _ in range(3):
print(f"Decryption progress: {random.randint(10, 99)}%")
time.sleep(1)

print("Compiling data...")
for i in range(5):
print(f"Transferring {random.randint(1, 5)}MB of data...")
time.sleep(0.7)

print("System breach completed.")
print("Retrieving sensitive information...")
time.sleep(2)

# Adding the binary "HELLO" message
binary_hello = "01001000 01000101 01001100 01001100 01001111"
print(f">>> ACCESS GRANTED <<<")
print(f"Welcome, agent.")
print(f"Message: {binary_hello}")

Edited (LAST ONE I SWEAR ) 2024-09-17 22:05 (UTC)

hey, root.

guess we made it through, yeah? you doing alright?

Miss Root,
I wish to have coffee with you.
Signed,
Richard Plantagenet, duke of Gloucester.

[ when he can't reach either of them via the tablet, he checks the apartment, only to find it empty. from then on, he checks every day — until coming there through the mirror to nothing but empty rooms becomes too depressing, and he leaves behind a note instead.

overly optimistic of him, perhaps... but he doesn't want to think they might be gone. just like he doesn't want to think jinx is gone; just like he didn't want to accept shinji being gone. ]

TO ROOT & SHAW,

It's been five days, now. I keep hoping that I'm gonna come back to you guys being here, but with every day, well, that's looking a little less likely. Still, if you do come back and read this... I hope you guys are okay. If you remember me, give me a heads up you're back, yeah? And if you don't, well, just know there's someone who cares about you both a lot.

— C.R.

[You wake up in a courtroom. You’re not really sure how you got here, just that you’re here. There’s Jerry, sitting at the judges box. For some he might be new, and others he might be familiar or semi-familiar. He scrutinizes you, and then motions to the jury box. There’s a plaque that’s sitting on the outside that says “Council”, but there’s no one sitting there. Everything looks clean and maintained, but there’s no one in the courtroom but you and Jerry.

Weird.]

You are charged with murder.

[There’s something about his expression that makes you think that he might’ve already made up his mind…]

The Council has found you Guilty of this. In order to repent and further your rehabilitation, you have been tasked to show remorse for your crime by distancing yourself from the one you murdered, as the Council has deemed it unhealthy. That person must be allowed her own independence. If there is no action taken, there will be consequences.

[You wake up back in your bed. You remember everything – Jerry, the jury box, the words he spoke to you. Maybe you remember the words he spoke more vividly than anything else.

However you decide to proceed… there will be consequences.]

[ooc: you have until January 10th to submit your Sentencing HERE Even if your character doesn’t proceed with the Sentencing, you must comment on the NPC inbox for your penalty.

Also, there are effects for ignoring this Sentencing. The longer that Root takes without completing her Sentencing, the more the effects of death of Expiation will weigh on her. She may start questioning whether she really exists, her memories, or even her humanity. If you have any questions about Sentencing, please direct it to the Mod Contact post.]

[One minute, they're both lying in bed, Shaw's mind pleasantly hazy from alcohol, sleepiness, and the warmth of Root's body against her back. The next minute, all three of those things are gone when Root vanishes wholesale, blinking away as if she'd never been there at all.

The experience neatly cuts through both the tipsiness and the tiredness, and when Shaw swings herself out of bed and onto her feet, her mind is alert and racing. It's obvious what's happened: really, the biggest surprise is that this is the first time she's experiencing it. A long-running simulation like this one has to experience glitches and coding bugs. Now she just has to figure out how bad it is - and determine if it's likely to get worse.

Bear comes running into the bedroom, which is the first major relief. The second major relief is that all of Root's stuff is still here, from her tablets on the nightstand to her toothbrush and towel in the bathroom; in fact, a quick overview of the apartment (Bear, as ever, at her heels) doesn't turn up anything amiss at all. Okay, she tells herself, to the beat of her heart thudding in her ear. Okay, okay, okay. Root's gone, but the presence of her hasn't been erased. Root may or may not come back, but none of Shaw's memories are proving to be false or overwritten. Root may or may not come back, but Shaw isn't losing her mind. And that's a hell of a relief, it really is, but--

Root may or may not come back.]

One or two a week.

[She mutters to herself under her breath. It's the statistic she'd been given not long ago, an estimate of how many people vanish into thin air, and the sort of glitch that Root had obviously been made a casualty of. Snatching up her own tablet, she quickly scrolls back to the conversation and reads through it again. Backups, copies, reloading old data--

It probably won't work. She'd told Root that she wouldn't try again because she didn't see any reason to, and she'd meant it. But that was then and this is now, and if she can do something to reboot her tiny little portion of the system, when Root has only just disappeared and her data might not yet have been reallocated or overwritten - then it's sure as hell worth a try, no matter how unlikely it is to succeed.

She shoos Bear out of the room first, closing the bedroom door firmly behind him. And then she picks up her gun from the bedside table, holds it in her hand, and--

Root reappears, just as unceremoniously as she'd vanished. And Shaw, half-raised gun in hand, has a look on her face akin to that of a kid who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She may not do guilt, but apparently she does Oh crap, you weren't supposed to see this pretty damn well. She drops the gun, letting it clatter to the floor.]

I'm not gonna do it.

[It's early in the 25th morning. Most people are still sleeping and the sun is only about to send its first rays to break the darkness of the night sky. But then there is a sudden knock on a door. Huh?! Who could it be! Whenever Root gets to the door, be it immediately or hours late they will find a christmas wreath with white roses placed on their doorstep. There might even be snowy (or wet!) small hoof marks leading away from the present. Hm. I wonder, who indeed did deliver this?

On the wreath there is a letter that reads:]

To miss Root,

I know that you might scoff at the Christian traditions but regardless, I hope to wish you merry Christmas. There will be a feast held at the Inn’s tavern for the next 12 days and I welcome you to enjoy it for free, of course. There will be warm food, treats and homemade mead and wine for you and your better half to indulge in. I have also decorated the church appropriately for the Christmas and it would warm my heart if you found time in your schedule to visit it.

Merry Christmas.

Signed,
Richard Plantagenet, The Duke of Gloucester

[There is also a small note added next to letter which reads: "Your first bow and arrow set are waiting for you at the forge"

ooc: There will be no ic mingle log for the feast. But feel free to either handwave or thread it out!]

Edited (forge not fogery lmao) 2024-12-25 18:29 (UTC)

[ on christmas morning, there's a long and relatively thin package, along with a note that reads, ]

Hey Root (& Shaw),

Don't know if you guys celebrate Christmas, but here goes anyway. So, remember my cricket bat? I promised you one, so here goes. Not sure what Shaw's preferred weapon is, so hope these work.

Both of you are right brills, and I'm real glad to know you both.

Love,
Charles

[ in the package, there is not a cricket bat but a baseball bat, enchanted to be more durable than a normal one, and be able to hit all kinds of normally-unhittable supernatural beings. alongside it is a box of six bullets; each enchanted with the exact same enchantment. ]

>> I have confirmed that your partner has returned my Captain in, as you say, "one piece."

[ A pause. ]

>> My apologies to your canine for the undue enthusiasm of our own.

[The defunct subway car from their base rattles lightly as it trundles down the track; Shaw, unsteady on her feet, sways precariously, gripping the grab bar far tighter than any self-respecting New Yorker shoulder have to. She's barefoot, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top - the same ones the Decima folks stuck her in after they let her change out of the hospital gown - and there's an IV line dangling from her inner forearm, though the loose end isn't attached to anything. It doesn't make sense, but she doesn't even register it enough to question it. She's focused on one thing, and one thing only: the servers on the far side of the car. It is vital that she gets to them, because the Machine has a message for her - and right now, nothing matters as much as hearing it.

The car jerks hard to the left, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She growls, yanks the IV needle out of her arm, and pulls herself doggedly to her feet, determined to keep going.]

[ it starts like this: a big abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of london, strange sounds at night, reports made, real, living people sent to investigate it missing. it's a ghost whose house is near the warehouse who comes to make the request — disturbing my peace, it is, all them lights at night, the shouts, a terrible racket! can't a fella live their afterlife in peace? you'll take it, won't you, and it's exactly the kind of job for them —

them. him and who? it's an agency, for sure, and yet when he tries to remember who it is that was there with him, taking the case, the details slip from his grasp like slippery fish. all he knows that it is them, now, him and root (his friend, his big sister in spirit, tough and quicksilver and bullet-smart, he'd trust her with his afterlife), standing here in front of the warehouse, intent on interrogating the ghosts there for details. ]

Right, ready?

[ he doesn't think there might be a chance root wouldn't see them — she sees him, doesn't she? that's enough. ]

i might require your assistance, root.

ANON

a day or so after the reset;

text | un: (default)

during root & shaw being gone;

SENTENCING

cw: suicide