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Peers & Pressures [Complete]


Malachite

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At Ryan's warning, Deezy looked over to see the wall of dust and debris approaching at the speed of sound. With only a few seconds to act, she hunkered down and pressed her hands to the ground. Dust and sand drew together, were rewritten...energy exchanged with the seething vacuum energy to convert silicates and organic compounds into iron and carbon in precisely controlled concentrations and distributions.

 

A wall of steel rose up from the ground, curved in a kind of half-dome and encircling Deezy and anyone standing close to her. To either side of the new shield was a kind of ditch, where the mass had been taken from existing matter in the ground. The bottom edge of it was formed into spikes that anchored it into the soil.

 

The shockwave hit like a truck, causing the barrier to ring like a gong. This was followed by innumerable little pings and ptangs as sand and grit impacted and was shunted aside. All in all the blast shield was perhaps twenty feet in diameter, creating a sort of 'shadow' behind it where the damage was more limited. Though it did precious little to stop the noise.

 

Deezy peeked around the edge as the deluge ended and rubbed her ears painfully, working her jaws to try to equalize pressure.

 

"Sheesh. What a show off."

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There was a scramble at the base as the shockwave hit, soldiers diving to pull down the civilians and try to shield them from the blast of sand, sound, and force. The more aware ones did their best to drag people behind Deezy's shell instead of letting their clothes take the brunt of the mini sandstorm. Lucia popped her head up at Deezy's comment, eyes wide. "No shit. And I thought my stuff was scary. Guy could set off an earthquake."

"Kid is an earthquake," Leo, the shipwright from Connecticut, muttered as he peeled a soldier that had rather laughably attempted to keep the much larger man from being scoured by the sand off from him with a grunt.  

Dr. Ballard was off to the side, conferring with several people and checking the feeds from drones that were little more than scrap metal and plastic now. The Colonel called over, "Get what you need, doctor? 'Cause I think that boy needs to get home before he takes out half the state."

 

"Yeah," Ballard waved the soldier off. "We've got the readings. Some weird spikes, but nothing that looks like it's going to mutate the public. I want him to have some follow-ups with his PPC, make sure he's not having more weird side effects. We're going to need more drones if everyone else is going to show off like that." His tone was pretty neutral, just recounting a fact and not giving an opinion on such overwhelming use of power. Next to him, Wendy was more wide-eyed, quickly scribbling notes down a tablet and and blinking sand out of her eyes still.

 

Several soldiers jogged into the yard, meeting with the Colonel and getting reassurance that things were indeed okay and the sandblast wasn't Storm Round 2. They disappeared back around the building, going over to the larger second group Ryan had caught sight of in his short flight earlier. 

The others with them in quarantine gave their own performances: Chula Mercier from the bayou who could warp and stretch her body, playing at being a marionette on invisible strings. Sora Matsuda, who healed those with cuts and sand burns with a touch and seemed to awe the soldiers perhaps even more than the flamboyant shows the others were putting on. Vanessa Carmichal, the Mean Girl from the west coast who spent the whole time trying on different glam faces and bodies, watching the soldiers to see who was watching her like they should be. Alejandro Juarez, the Latino dancer that played with the drones, sending them spinning around him in their own intricate dance without ever touching them or their controllers. Deliah Palmer, the middle-aged Black woman with kids to get home to, stood with a flame dancing over her palm and dared anyone to ask her to do something flashy just for the amusement of their military captors. Cynthia Richardson, who was grinning the entire time others were doing their bit, waiting to see when people would notice there were a dozen of her spectating around the yard - and one more sneaking around the side of the building to see what was going on on the other side. Leo Walker the shipwright shrunk down to child-size and then grew until even Sebastian and Emily could see him towering over the yard as they trekked back from their desert jaunt. 

 

As Balard cleared each person, the Colonel sent a soldier to show them back into the base. There a team of bureaucrats were waiting with paperwork, a recap of the world over the past four days, and an offer. They went over each person's current state of fame and what life back home was likely to be like, and then offered for them to go home and deal with that or go into WitSec until the world recovered and adjusted to the new status quo. Ryan was also requested to ferry those people that wanted to just go home all over the country - otherwise a plane trip to Tuscon later that day would get them started on the journey, and plane or train tickets would be provided to get them the rest of the way. Quarantine was over; now they just had to face the rest of the world.

 

 
 
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Spoiler

Anyone that took dots of Fame (save Renata who's got her own thing going) is known and being touted by the media as a Stormer now. If you took dots of Cover, the government has been able to control the rumors and footage around your actions during the Storm and you can go home to only a small handful of people knowing the truth. If you took neither, your identity hasn't been blasted the way those with Fame has, but the government hasn't been able to really hide you either. If you want to alter your choice, lemme know and we'll get it sussed out. :)

If anyone wants to take the WitSec option, lemme know that, too.

 

Everyone take +2 XP!

 

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