The 100; a panfandom game

MEDICAL:

I'm coming back.

Sorry for taking such a long leave of absence. It won't happen again.

GARRETT HAWKE:

Thank you, for what you said. I'll figure out what to do with myself, you don't have to babysit me.

I know someone who was killed like Emerson.

His name was Aaron Echolls. I don't know if he's a movie star everywhere, but back home, he occupied that Bruce Willis/Kevin Costner/Jason Statham niche that made him rich and beloved by all. He posed with his fans and donated to charities. He also had sexual relationships with sixteen year old girls and then bashed their brains out when they threatened to come clean. Alternatively, he used public sympathy from a recent stabbing (another affair, different affair) to minimize the damage he caused by locking another nosy teenage girl into a refrigerator and setting it alight with gasoline (me, of course. What, did the nosy not give it away?).

Because he was rich, white, and male, and because one victim couldn't speak for herself on account of being dead, and the other could speak until she was hoarse and still be labelled a foolish slut in the public eye, he got away with it. "Not enough evidence". Three words to level you flat, right? It's not supposed to end like this. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children. Truth prevails. Evil's punished.

He was shot after he was acquitted. I have my theories who did it, and I don't care. I hope he suffered. I know he didn't. It was fast, clean, and efficient - an execution.

That didn't make it justice. I saw him for years afterward. I still do I wanted him dead and now he's a ghost in my head, because I was happy he was killed that way. Culpable.

If you're fine with the way Emerson died, great. If you're not fine, also great. Also? No longer relevant. His story is finished, whatever comes out about people who suspected, people who helped, people who tried to stop it from happening. We're always going to be what's left. The collateral damage. We screwed up big-time, friends, now where are we going next? Is murder in the shadows our legacy? Has humanity really been so level all these years? I don't know.

But there'll be a next time. The calendar waits for no existential moral panic. Let's do better then. Let's deserve a system that works to protect us. We can think the world's better off without the Emersons and Echolls in the world. But that doesn't mean we're better for it.

This journal entry of angsty over-identifying is brought to you by the letter 'B', as in B-movie and bitter-like-coffee.

Is this place haunted? Or am I seei

WHO: Emma Swan, with cameo by Killian Jones / Hook — mentions of Rumpelstiltskin, Belle, and Henry.
WHEN: Today, around breakfast time.
WHERE: Mess Hall.
WHAT: Enjoy guys. Emma turns into the Dark One.
WARNINGS: IDK evil stuff?

( She thought she'd fended this off for some time, but it seemed that fate had a way of catching up with a person. )

The whole underground bunker thing isn't so bad. It reminds me of the Hub with lower ceilings.

[Jack]
Not having a clue what's going on is a bit disconcerting. There seem to be a lot of politics on top of learning all the basic stuff. I'd rather stay in bed. You'd think dying would be a good excuse for a break.

Oh. Ow. That was a head rush, wasn't it? Bit like a brain freeze after you've had an ice lolly. I thought I already had enough lives in my head. Not sure I was ready for a few extra years all at once.

-EY CAN'T BE DEAD; they were going to last for thousands of years! I REFUSE to give up h


Oh. Later timestamp. Did I short-circuit again? Where am I? What is this? Hello? My name is Dr. Catherine Chun. What's going on? Is this-- Earth?

WHO: Garrett Hawke and Simon Tam
WHEN: Backdated to a few days ago
WHERE: The library
WHAT: Simon is still fruitlessly searching for his sister, and Hawke has to drag him back to reality.
WARNINGS: N/A

( I have nothing for myself )

I haven't talked about it much, but back home I used to work with a private investigator. We would be hired to discover the causes behind mysterious and usually bizarre deaths, give the truth to a client, and then collect a reward for solving the mystery. The police would do everything else from there, and I guess a part of me thought everything would go the way it was supposed to after that.

This is... I don't know.

Maybe I'm just not getting enough sun. I usually love going outside in winter and I've never had a problem with SAD, but I've also never lived in a bunker during the apocalypse, so maybe it's just a unique circumstance. I should go get some fresh air.

I'm not used to any competition for this body, but I always knew I had good taste.

Or maybe it was the "real me" that smoke was after? That wouldn't have worked out for it.

I feel as if I should write something meaningful about the events of the last several days, but I find that my screen remains blank. Words are inadequate to express the anger we share, the hope that we might begin to move on, the utter sadness for everything that we've lost. All that I do know is that we must ever strive to be better than we are now, at this instant, at whatever instant it may be. Better and wiser. That being said, we must not forget to live, to allow the small acts of life to remind us all that it is an infinitely precious gift that we are given.

Now that I've bored you all silly with my tiny little philosophial meanderings, I invite you to join the Mount Weather Book Club this Friday and every Friday as we gather to read, together, one of the many literary treasures that our library holds. We are very nearly finished with our current novel, and will be reading a few short stories to fit the holiday season until after the new year begins. Then we'll start The Color Purple. Please join us! We meet Friday evenings at 7, in the common area on 501.

There are cameras watching everything, right?

Can anyone see my mom? She's got to be

Hand written notes* left for Natasha (MCU) & Mystique (movies), in their respective rooms:

I know it's hectic right now but we have an unknown AI on the network. She seems content right now but we should talk offline and figure things out. — John

Hand written note* left for Sarah and Kyle:

There's an unknown AI on the network. Watch what you type.

We should probably keep Pops away.

*Notes are not secured in any way and possibly left with roommates (504R & 506D & 506A) if anyone's feeling nosey.

WHO: Finnick & Annie
WHAT: Ultrasound!
WHEN: Today
WHERE: Hospital
WARNINGS: None?

( ... )

( PRIVATE FILTER; DR. CHAKRABARTI DAILY VOICE RECORDING )
MAJOR LILYWHITE, OBI-WAN KENOBI, QUI-GONN JINN & LIV MOORE:

For a few days there's going to be two rat friends in little cages in our apartments. I ask that you don't let them loose, though feel free to pet or befriend them as you wish. I'm running a few preliminary tests on them to make sure the radiation isn't going to skew my results too much, before moving them to larger cages in the labs.

Their names are Ash and Ripley, if you're curious.

I'm probably not the best person to weigh in on matters of revenge or vigilante justice. But I'd really like to see this system we're setting up here get a win, for once.

CAS

Hey. How're you feeling?

The demon in me does not want to share with the black cloud. Too much swirling, twirling darkness. It was everywhere. It tickled.