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Dawn Moor

Dawn Moor

Member Since 30 Oct 2018
Offline Last Active Jun 06 2019 07:05 PM
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In Topic: Harsh Realm

28 February 2019 - 07:58 PM

The well-cropped purple-haired male who stood in the place of Dawn seemed studious and aloof.An intense shrewdness froze to his expressionless face as plain and effortlessly as if it had been painted on.He listened, but he made no particular note of a desire to participate right away.A lot of questions were on his mind.A lot of variables to calculate.Many mentioned by some of the others.

Which planet was this?
Are the NPCs on this planet loyal to the General?
What security systems are in place?
What sort of weather can they expect?
What terrain can they expect?
What access will they have to the technology?

And above all, how much power does the General have over the simulation?

In additional to all of these questions, which Dusk was in the process of ascertaining based on various evidences throughout the room, a more interesting revelation came from one of the members.An unfortunate admission from one of the participants that left a sour taste in his digitally reproduced mouth.Three of the participants were "family".They were connected to each other.What sort of competition was this that stacked the odds so firmly against him?No matter which one of the three won, they all won.Of course they would team together.He hid the bitterness behind his studious gaze.

The only allaying factor to the bitterness was the obvious lack of Force connection in the simulation.It left several of the members feeling like a fish out of water.Whereas Dusk, who had no Force connection in the real world, had no sense of what was missing.Rather, as a man born of the digital world and with a layer of custom tech between him and the simulation, the tables were reversed.In a simulated world, there would exist latent functions and toolsets that could be exploited.That was the Force of a simulated world.

But he would play by the rules, for now.Not least of all because the cost of cheating would rid the entire point of his participation: the reward.But Dusk was nothing if not cautious.He certainly would not encourage his counterpart, Dawn, to allow any invasive cerebral simulation without some sort of defense.Already, the CyberNerv system controller was cloning network logs and commands in real-time.

Dusk half-suspected that the organization running the simulation was, in fact, counting on this. After all, the opponent of the simulation was a man who had hacked and re-written aspects of the simulation at-will.It was obvious that simply throwing regular participants, with limited access, at the General in a simulation that was life-or-death was a suicide mission for anyone involved.What better way to counter a man who has broken the system than a man born and bred from cyberterrorists and subsequently sharpened by metropolitan cybersecurity enforcement?

And what of the family?This variable burned in Dusk's mind.More than the details of the planet.More than minor aspects of the simulation.Why was a chunk of the participants connected?It made little sense for a competition.But there were too many possibilities and not enough information.It was a puzzle that Dusk would have to simply attempt to ignore for now.

A key question was presented: Would Dusk go alone or stick with the group?Obviously, it made little sense to go alone with no information.It was pointed out clearly that they would need to acquire weapons, let alone supplies.It was in nobody's best interest to go alone at this stage.But the endgame might prove to be a different story.

"There is still too much information that we do not know." Dusk said, sternly."We do not have any information on the target or the extent of his grip on this simulation.Best case scenario, he has no access to network events describing the arrival of new participants.Worst case scenario, he knows precisely where we have spawned.

Probability is high that every non-player character will pose as eyes and ears for our target.If you allow me to tag along, I will find a way to circumvent this threat.But you will need to keep me protected.
"
 

Jairdain | Caedyn Arenais | Padran Rodarch | Shoden Moz | Lucinda Larr | Dayton Santiago

 

In Topic: Chaos Choreography [CIS Dominion | S-38]

07 February 2019 - 09:02 PM

Objective: Seek and interrogate
Wearing: Rave 
Equipment: a small tactical blaster; multi-tool; knives; various wires, diodes, resistors, and other spare parts
Post: 2
-=ENERGY=-

 

Nothing seemed more emblematic of the complexities of choreography than a media production set in a remote space station between multiple entities owned by various different private interests.  There was the production crew for the Dance or Die event, of course, but there was also the daily workings of the station crew.  This included not only security staff, in charge of keeping the crowds outside of unwanted areas, but of environmental crews, maintenance crews, docking staff, room keepers, and a plethora of other divisions that each had thin lines of communication outside of need-to-know orders to allow them to function in their jobs.  It was a such a delicate balance of choreography that a single tip, such as an invasion of a predatory species left staff utterly confused about how to carry on.

 

 

Of course, certain divisions had received word before others, such as security staff that sought to lock down the station in a discreet and unpublicized manner.  But docking staff had simply been left in the dark. So when a swelling of the panicked and confused public rushed their way into the hangers to get access to their respective shuttles, the control room was sent sprawling about to attempt to bring order into chaos.

 

In this confusion, a single transport shuttle had overridden quarantine protocols and proceeded into the hanger with little regard to staff and the confused, wealthy nobility that had hurriedly ran away from the shuttles intended landing spot in the middle of the hanger.  After settling with a hiss, the shuttle’s hatch opened and revealed its single occupant - a palish woman with freckles and a the worst case of bed-head. She stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes.

Huddled before Dawn was a mass of surly and confused guests who were shouting over each other and throwing daggered glances in her direction while she simply placed her hands behind her head and swayed into the crowd.  With a weary and glossy gaze, Dawn meandered with purpose, sifting and shoving her way through the Never-In-My-Lifers and I-Want-To-Speak-To-The-Managers that littered the hanger floor.  A particularly familiar numbness crept along the back of her neck and skull, leaving her feeling somewhat absent minded.  But she simply went along for the ride as she instinctively knew the exact direction to head.

At the station entrance tunnel, several armed guards stood, halting a group of wealthy protesters who demanded to know, precisely, the meaning of all of this.  The security staff remained stalwart and stone-faced, even as a lavishly dressed and well-painted neimodian woman stood haughtily with puffed cheeks.

“Look at these heels.  These were my mother’s heels.  Do these heels look like hanger heels to you?  I wore these heels for Brad. Do you know what these heels do if I stand in these heels too long?  My feet turn into melons. Do you want to explain to my husband why my feet are melons?”

“Ma’m, I’m sorry for th…”

“Sol!  Sol! Where’s my husband in this Prison?  Sol!”

“I don’t know wh…”

“Don’t tell me what you know and what you don’t know.  I know you don’t know anything. I’m looking for my husband.  Are you holding him hostage? Is that what this is about? What’d he do?”

“Ma’m I don’t know know your husba…-”

“SOL!”  The woman shouted in a gruff voice.  “Somebody find my husband before my feet turn into an all-you-can-eat melon buffet for the whole station!”

Unable to tolerate the delay any longer, Dawn pushed past the woman in the fur and bluffed.  “Hey! You, with the gun and the datapad! Dawn Moor. CIS. Lookin’ for a guy named Sol. Got a Sol around here?

The solemn face of the man fell upon Dawn with utter dismay lurking behind stone cold eyes.  He slowly shook his head and muttered, “I don’t get paid enough…”

“You’re lookin’ for MY husband, young lady?”  The woman stood over Dawn, glaring down at her.  “You?! So skinny. What’s my husband doing schmoozing with this floozy?”

Lady, do you want me to find your husband or not?  Because I can just-

“You said you’re with the CIS?”  The security guard asked Dawn.

Yeah?”  She replied, staring down the very tall and portly neimodian.

The guard stepped forward and took Dawn’s arm, “Come on.  Everyone, make room. Let her pass!”

The Neimodian woman shouted at Dawn, “If you find my husband, tell him he can eat his shoes for dinner.  And have your mother make you a sandwich! Oy, these heels…”

The guard escorted Dawn to the hatch, keying in a code to open it while whispering,“I trust you know what’s out there. Be careful. And please, for all of us....find her husband.”

 

In Topic: Chaos Choreography [CIS Dominion | S-38]

05 February 2019 - 05:27 PM

Objective: Seek and interrogate
Wearing: Rave 
Equipment: a small tactical blaster; multi-tool; knives; various wires, diodes, resistors, and other spare parts

Location: On a transport cruiser heading toward Media Station

 

The trip from Delta IV to the station gave Dawn some needed rest and Dusk extra time to prepare. As the weary female laid in haphazard angles amid piles of torn food wrappers, her more studious alter-ego - unencumbered by Dawn's unconscious state - performed numerous checks on the Holonet while interfaced directly with the transport cruiser's communications relay.It was the calm before the storm, he surmised, as he rapidly caught up on the last two seasons of Dance or Die.

The mission was fairly direct in the abstract: a simple capture and interrogate operation.Not for the Confederacy of Independent Systems, but rather for a no-name local former pirate-turned-club owner on Delta IV who just happened to manage a smuggling ring of some legally sketchy spice that Dawn required for...medical purposes.Dusk's counterpart, the party-hearty Dawn, had somehow managed to charm the man into incorporating the spice trade into his business on the side, in exchange for her willing advertisement and service for a line of some new clubs.It impressed Dusk what a snarky attitude and digital skin tattoos could gain a person in the Underground.

The catch, of course, was that for the past six months, the pirate club owner had lost contact with one of his best supply logisticians in the sector - a man named Kan Kaan.He had taken on a job at a media company providing supply chain support and logistics for wealthy celebrities - a very lateral move in terms of job requirement but certainly more legally sound.

While Dusk streamed past episodes of Dance or Die, he methodically sorted through numerous records to find which celebrity Kaan had been assigned to.Due to the nature of non-disclosure agreements to protect the celebrity's image from being associated with potentially shady third-parties, finding direct information on the Holonet in regards to staffing was tricky.Instead, Dusk created multiple matrices of data correlating to behavior patterns known to him, referencing old account transfers from when Kaan served the club owner as well as quantities and frequencies of particular orders.From this, Dusk could feed the data to a sandboxed neural network, training it before feeding it public Holonet records on supplies ordered for the latest event.

Spectrum analysis and subject acquisition probability was currently at five percent.Expected completion time: two and a half hours.

Expected arrival time: six and a half minutes.

Time to wake up.


In Topic: Harsh Realm

31 January 2019 - 06:38 PM

Dawn was neither the first nor the last to be placed on a bed.However, she would be one of the last to interface with the Harsh Realm simulation.The implant at the back of the neck would directly interface with the existing SMPl CyberNerv controller chip.This interfacing took time as the controller chip performed a number of security operations to keep the implant from accessing the subdermal system and causing hiccups in Dawn's otherwise regular biological processes.

The sedative hit fast and caused a warm, tingling feeling across Dawn's body.While her consciousness slipped out during the interfacing, keen observers watching over Dawn would have caught a brief glimpse of a neon smiley projecting from her left cheek for a few brief seconds.It gave a mischievous wink, disappearing right before the interfacing had completed.

----------------------------

An empty space where the last few remaining bits of sunlight faded through the grimy windows became the spawning point of a figure that resembled, but did not fully replicate, the appearance of Dawn.Facial features were similar, but with exaggerations on jawline strength and the broadness of shoulders.Gone were many gender-specific physical attributes, favoring an androgynous physiology.And juxtaposed to the quirky grin and impatient stature was a figure of poise and calculated patience.Where the sunlight had faded, Dusk had stood in its place, and he surveyed the surroundings with a meticulous gaze.

"Now this," he spoke as his hands traced the textures of the walls and ground, "Is a VERY impressive simulation."

  


In Topic: Harsh Realm

21 January 2019 - 03:20 PM

 In direct contrast to Jairdain's visible discomfort with implants, Dawn had a hard time hiding a smirk. Of course, the implant was not something she was unaware of. Virtual Holonets would require some sort of direct interface, she surmised, and her counterpart had discussed compatibility with their CyberNerv system some time before their arrival. Though the intravenous feeding tube was new information, it, too, was hardly discomforting. Rather, Dawn saw it as a distinct advantage, as her swift metabolism was the biggest drawback to utilizing her full potential. Keep those juices flowing, she chuckled in her mind.

 What did give her some pause was the non-specific answer to her question. She had once recalled a similar sort of answer at a cantina when she had asked who had prepared, as she described, one of the most amazing soups in the outer rim. The answer was, to her great dissatisfaction, "the cook". In much the same way as how she left the cantina more satisfied with the soup than the answer, so, too, was her satisfaction met with the offered bounty. Perhaps she'd take the million credits and buy a trip to the Outer Rim for another round of soup.

 "I'm with Mr. Scarface over there." She said with a lingering smirk and a gesture in Padran's direction. "Let's get hooked up and nab us a General."


Jairdain | Caedyn Arenais | Padran Rodarch | Shoden Moz | Lucinda Larr | Dayton Santiago