It is March 29th 2013, Good Friday.
How do you, and for those living at home spend your day? I need to know what you (and your family if applicable) do, when, and where for the period 8am till **10pm**.. Do you/they stay in all day playing computer games or working, or do you go out, and for how long, etc. I need a fairly detailed penitentiary. for one of you your plans will get interrupted.
You don't need to "private to" replies..
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:18, Fri 29 Apr 2022.

Eight o'clock, Beijing time, Winter is in Political Science class - "science" in this case with a heavy dose of irony. Her professor is one of those assholes who take attendance, mostly so he can have a captive audience for his sermons on why the government should privatize everything and why the KMT ware the One True Party to lead the Federal Republic of China. Content-free, so Winter spends most of that class Skyping about inconsequential topics and-or writing up articles for the Party paper (hey, it's politics, even if the professor didn't approve of her own RCCK).

9:15, class is out. Her next class (Calculus) doesn't take attendance and she could probably teach it better than the professor, so despite the theoretically-strict requirements of the university, it's a free period unless it's a test day. March 29th is not, so on Fridays, Winter usually gets on her bike and rides out to the Student Rim - an area just off campus full of shops that cater to students. Her destination is McDonald's, because Fridays are Fish Fridays at the cafeteria, and seriously, who the fuck thought that grilled fish for breakfast was a good idea? Arriving between 9:25 and 9:30, she usually stays on the second-floor dining area until at least 10 to 10:30, eating breakfast, playing some coffebreak casual games on her laptop and watching a cat video or two.

Another class at 11 (Chinese; mandatory attendance, Skyping with friends), then lunch at the cafeteria at 12:15 (fish and chips is much more palatable), then classes are over for the day - but China doesn't really believe in "free time." Still, she doesn't have activities for a bit, so after eating, she claims a spot in an internet cafe to set down her laptop. Her favorite game this month is Tribes 2, maintained on free servers - though it's not like she expects proper teamwork in a pickup group. She usually spends the latter half of the match doing cheeky things involving spiking turrets in the enemy base. It's not actually effective, but it's really funny.

At 3:00 on Fridays, her "club" is the Tsinghua RCCK. Party meetings spend about ten minutes getting formalities and rituals out of the way, maybe half an hour on task unless there's something worth talking about or the newsletter is behind schedule, and then things devolve into cracking open a couple of beers, jabbering, insulting their Poli Sci professors and maybe someone popping in an episode or two of some anime or another before dinner. This week it's Slayers, with English subs because they're easier to find than Mandarin. 5:00 is dinner. More damn fish, but at least dinner has a wide variety of other courses and by then Winter at least wants one proper meal for the day.

Then at 6 comes the most utterly dumbassed idea of the day: the four-hour daily study hall. Monday through Friday (thank heaven for small mercies - at least it's not on the weekend) from 6pm to 10pm, China's Finest are expected to spend four hours in a proctored room studying for their classes. In Winter's case, she's decided that today she's going to "study" Netflix. After all, she needs to "practice her English," right? Maybe a K-drama too, just to mix it up. The proctor knows damn well that most of the students are doing the same, and couldn't care less; everyone agrees that the entire concept is pants-on-head stupid for young adults. At least Winter has her headphones in, so she doesn't have to listen to the boy and girl making out next to her.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Fri 29 Apr 2022.

It was a Friday, but despite not having a job to get to right now Harris still got up at the crack of dawn. A quarter hour before seven in the morning that is, in New York. Already the streets were busy and crowded as people tried to get to work or move through the city. A city that never slept. Rising from his bed, Harris went through his normal motions for the day - or any day for that matter. A quick shower. A bit of breakfast. And then out the door and towards Central Park. It was his morning ritual right now, while he had the luxury of time, to do a morning jog around the park. Who knew when he'd hear back from one of the several companies he'd applied to after graduating of course, but it seemed the market was being more than a little slow right now.

He had the luxury of time though. At least a little of it. So by seven-fifty he was out the door and heading to the park at a slow jog. He'd save his energy for when he got there. On arrival at the park, that's when he put in a serious run. Or jog. No need to push too hard of course, he did this more for keeping in shape and the scenery. At least when the weather was good, which thankfully today it was. Roughly an hour jogging around the Park and then back home shortly after nine. Then he'd have a quick shower and change into something a bit more casual, hitting the web after to search the various companies and check his email for any possible messages.

While doing so only took up about an hour or a little more - depending on if he had any emails specifically to reply to - he wrapped up his searching by noon. A good time to take a break and grab a bite to eat, which he prepared simply there in his apartment. It wasn't anything glamorous nor large, a simple place to suit the needs of a young man though. After lunch, it was time to head out once again. This time it was to the streets. While he was stuck waiting for job opportunities to open themselves to him at this point, he had time to wander and so he did. The streets of New York gave him ample variety and entertainment.

Past the busier stores and shopping districts, which always were interesting to window shop if nothing else. Perhaps even stopping briefly at one of the more specialty bookstores in the city to obtain something to read later in the evening. His goal was towards the docks though today, to look out over the harbor. A long walk especially, going on foot, while the subway or a taxi would have gotten him there much faster, he had time to kill and so he did.  It was a walking and exploring day for a Friday. As the hours passed, dinner would be a quick stop in Chinatown to get some food to take  home, where he'd grab one of his more interesting books to read for the evening. He hadn't studied any of his family's secrets for awhile now, so it was a good opportunity to do so.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:20, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

thanks for reminding me about time zones.. so 8am in Sacramento is 23:00 in Shenzen.. but technically in this case that would be irrelevant in this case, so 8am till *10pm* local time is still relevant.

Might make a slight difference in New York

Big Creek, Central California

Kenneth awoke to one of Tom's coughing fits. It was still pitch black and as the home had no power, but he might have guessed that it was around five in the morning.

As the windows began to let in a little light past the dirt, cobwebs and a thin layer of ashy residue the little room was illuminated, two twin beds with just enough room to walk between them, their various possessions stacked in closets or on shelves.

The room stank, but so did the occupants, that musky human odor of unwashed bodies and clothing. Sweat and smoke, dust and ash.

The crowing of a rooster, the sizzle of eggs on a skillet over the cast iron stove, the faint aroma of bear clover tea. Check the charge on the radio before it goes on the belt. Each battery generally lasted about three days, as there not much call for civil matters over the winter.

When Kenneth walked to the outhouse he saw people already out and about, neighbors, their dogs, a few horses and mules huffing clouds of condensation in the chill morning air and pawing at the hard ground.

Morning chores. He washed his hands in the bitterly cold snow melt of the rushing river a few hundred yards from the house, then hauled two sloshing plastic buckets for the days use, some to be boiled, some for cleaning dishes and the animals.

Egg collection, a pitchfork full of hay for their horse Joachin, another for their mule Morrell. Muck the corral, check their hooves and the shoes, top off the trough.

Smoke rose from the chimney, mom bringing the evening fire back to life.

Breakfast with the family, six of them huddled shoulder to shoulder around the table, a couple eggs, some thin porridge, a spoonful of preserves. Tom looked rough, Emily looked petulant, worried but subtle looks from the parents. Not much conversation.

Straight to getting the potatoes ready to seed, quarter them up, put them in the bucket while mom and Emily do dishes.

More field prep. No plow worth the name to be had, it's all pick and shovel and tossing the endless rocks out of the planting area. It's just starting to warm up a little, tiny green blades of grass poking up, the mountains in the distance still white and packed with snow.

The ravens cawed and croaked, a few waves and good mornings as people began their days, someone is felling a tree and the steady tock tock of the axe seemed to carry forever.

Another day, planting season, guesswork and toil. It was nearly April, but with the cold weather swings it would be painful to lose a whole crop to frost, although it seemed crazy to plant so late even at their higher elevation. People said that the weather patterns had changed, but it's been years now.

Never can tell for certain.

So what do you do when you hear the helos, when the gunships fly over, and when the Ranger puts down in the centre of town.. (the place I picked is the only open place with few trees, and no power lines...)

The sun was warm on Kenneth's shoulders and he was trying to man handle a particularly large boulder with the help of his father and brother when the sound of rotors could be heard in the distance.

Helicopters were rare, but not so rare as to cause a stir, although they were always just passing over.

But this grew louder, and louder still, to the point where all three men stopped what they were doing and stood sweating and listening as they stares off in the general direction of the sound.

"Military" his father said in that knowing, paternal way, and sure enough the deep and heavy thrum of rotors preceded the arrival of three helicopters over the tree line, two of them with stub wings and predatory profiles.

Two radios crackled to life and Kenneth turned his down to let his father answer.

"Yeah, we see'em" he confirmed. A few moments later the excited voice on the other end informed everyone listening that they were "putting down" on Spruce.

Not all three of them, just the one, but just about everyone in town was heading that direction anyway, radio or not.

Kenneth grabbed his mauler in a hurry and slung it, his father his old M4, and together they hustled in that direction and watched as the gunships continued on to the north.

A few dozen people were already there by the time the Elgrim's arrived, everyone seemed excited but puzzled and maybe a little apprehensive.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:19, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

4 people will exit the the Ranger, 2 men and 2 women.
One of the men and one of the women are wearing Swat style uniforms with Flak vests, and military style boots. The male, also has a military style helmet with face visor which is down and carries an H&K 416 Carbine. He remains by the Helo.The woman, who appears to be of Asian descent, has 2 automatic pistols in holsters at her waist, along with a knife. She will accompany the other 2.

The other woman, who has shoulder length red hair, has a laptop style bag slung over her shoulder,  is dressed in a business suit type jacket, knee length pleated skirt, and stout boots.
The other man is dressed in a utility body warmer over a set of coveralls, and again is wearing stout boots.

The Flak jackets, the utility body warmer and coveralls, and the laptop bag, all bear the Mizzurian Logo and Name.

Led by the woman in the business attire they will approach any on lookers and ask for Kurt Mattern by name. She will then introduce herself and her colleagues.

The basic upshot is that they have a number of contracts for Kurt to sign on behalf of the town.

The first is for the installation of the Wind/Solar Power/Communications unit.

The second is the agreement that access to the provided WiFi/Comms and excess power will be freely available to all town residents at no charge and with no discrimination.

The third agreement relates to the reconstruction of the Hydro-Plant. The town agrees to provide unfettered access to the Hyrdo-plant and accommodation and food for Mizzurian workers stationed in Big Creek for the duration of the project at no charge.

In exchange a certain amount of equipment will be provided free for use by the town. The equipment comprises 2 4CX series 10ton JCB diggers, 2 John Deer 6130 tractors, and 12 Kubota NC131 2 wheeled tractors with full set of attachments. In addition Mizzurian will supply 16,000L of diesel.

Kenneth, and what comprised the "militia" of the little Hamlet of less than sixty people, looked worn, rough and primitive next to their visitors.

Kenneth himself, who had been working in a field, had a pair of filthy brown boots, cargo pants and a sweat stained t shirt. The radio on his belt, next to a sheath knife, was battered and missing a knob.

The other armed members carried and wore a hodge podge of weaponry equipment and clothing.

Just about the only thing that looked new and formidable was the very modern looking bullpup on its sling, the t shirt bunched up a little under the modest weight.

Unshaven and half feral looking, Kenneth watched the "negotiations" with interest along with most of his neighbors.

It seemed too good to be true, but they obviously had the money to pull it off. It would change everything, the new blood coming into the area, the experience and expertise. Power, reliable cell, data, fuel. Any one of these things would have been life changing for all of them, but combined it was like they were being pulled out of the third world.

More than one person had tears in their eyes, mostly the older folks, who had struggled so much in the aftermath. The young people he supposed were more used to it...and more suspicious.

Could this really be happening?
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

7:00 AM came way too early on a Weekday. What was she thinking, Cellular Biology II at eight on Monday Wednesday and Friday? Though Thursday was just a study night, she didn't actually study.Instead she stayed up till some wee hour of the morning reading the latest Harley Gatwick novel. She didn't know when she dozed off but the novel was splayed on the floor near her draped hand as she laid belly down on the mattress. With a groan, she threw her pillow across the gap between her bed and the desk where she kept the alarm clock. It was still blaring.

"Damn it Rhiannon, turn that off." Her roommate, Tiffany, grumbled from her bunk. She took off that particular Friday because it was a holiday. Students had the option, though Rhiannon knew damn well that Tiffany wasn't going to be observing any Easter traditions.

"Sorry, Tiff." Rhiannon pushed herself up, dropping one foot to the floor and then spinning to a seated position on the edge of the bed. She took a deep breath.

"Rhiannon, Oh my God! Please!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'm getting it." Jumping up, she reached over and stopped the alarm with tap on the button.

Rhiannon's holiday was going to be full. Cell Bio at  eight for an hour and a half, Chem at ten, Calc II for the lunch hour, then a break and finishing the day with economics and a three hour bio lab. Yesterday she had only four classes. It would take her about forty minutes to get ready, leaving plenty of time to walk over to the sciences building and get to class. The middle of the days weren't bad, really. it was just the waking start and bleary eyed studying marathons at the end that sucked. There was no point in delaying any further. She grabbed a towel, her wash kit and slipped out to the shower room down the hall.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:50, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

Assuming Kurt signs the contracts, and Madeline Lee, the woman in the business attire, will allow up to 3 other town's folk to countersign each contract, will then say


Assuming there is nothing else then the 2 women will return to the Ranger, which will leave, followed a couple of minutes later by the 2 gunships.



At whichever point Kenneth returns to the farm  there will be an "Envelope" (see below) on the table personally addressed to him. The "envelope" just bears his name and is hand written in black ink.


I will hold things here until all the other characters catch up to this point.

When you return from your afternoon of exploration, sitting on a convenient table/desk will be said envelope.

When you return to your room, left on what ever doubles for a desk/dresser/table will be said envelope. In you case it has your name written traditional Yue script.

When you get back from your lab said envelope will be on your desk..
If Tiffany is there, then it "appeared" when she was out..

Returning to his apartment, Harris put down the food he had brought back and looked over to the envelope. Things were where he had left them of course, with the exception of the new addition. Strange letters appearing from no where might not be too unheard of for him it seems, if a bit unusual still. Something new his parents were sending to him?

Stepping over, he picked up the envelope and looked it over carefully, finally cracking the seal on it in the end and opening it up to see what was inside.

Firstly, assuming everything works, you should find a private link for each character which will enable you to download your invites..

Having discovered your envelopes, what, if anything, do you choose to do at this point?
Don't go too far and assume things, especially if you're not on the Mizzurian Shadow Earth....
The only character who is on the Mizzurian Shadow Earth at this point is Rhiannon..
Each of the rest of you are on a different Shadow Earths
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:13, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

Big Creek circa 13:45 Good Friday 2013

By 13:45 a low drone will start to reverberate through the hills.

As time ticks by the intensity of the sound will increase, until it can be resolves into the sound of approaching heavy vehicles.

At 14:15 approx a convoy of heavy trucks escorted by 4 BAE Caiman (RCWS mounting TRT2-RWS: M242 Autocannons) and 2 Predator drones will roll into the town. The convoy consists of 2 Mann HX87(8x8 heavy trucks with winches), a KWZT-1 Mamut Engineering truck, 3 Mann HX81 towing commercial semi-trailers, 1 with a 40ft container loaded and 2 with low loaders, and a Mann HX81 towing a container semi-trailer with a 40ft medical container (mobile hospital unit).
The low loaders carry 2 4CX series 10ton JCB diggers, 2 John Deer 6130 tractors with front loader attachment, 2 7 shaft plough/harrows, 1 seed drill, 1 fertilizer spreader, 2 general purpose trailers with side, 2 post auger attachments for the tractors, 2 sets of buckets for the JCBs, 2 sets of forks for the JCBs, and 2 rock hammer/breaker attachments for the JCBs. One of the containers holds the 12 Kubota NC131 2 wheeled tractors with attachments.

All the trucks, Caiman, Drones, and containers bear the Mizzurian name and logo.

Whilst 2 of the Caiman carry predominately heavily armed security personnel (each carries 6 security personnel), the remainder are technicians, engineers, and medical staff (8 man team, 2 doctors, 7 nurses, 1 administrator).
The field hospital will be open for business within 1 hour of arrival in town. It offers a free of charge health check, and will treat anyone free of charge. If a program of drugs are required, or a long term prescription is needed, then supplies will arrive the following morning..


Big Creek circa 12:05 Easter Saturday 2013
At about 11:59 the town will hear the approach of helos once more.
4 Sirorsky CH-53K lift helos escorted by 2 Bell AH-1Z Vipers (the same gunships as the previous day) will roll into town.
2 of the Sirorsky's each carry 2xSS-463L pallets each loaded with 4 IBC's of diesel (total of 16,000L).
Any required drugs supplies will be loaded in the spare space on the pallets.

The other 2 each carry an underslung 40ft container.The first is solar/wind power/comms hub. The second contains the "parts", a 20m mast to support a 12Kw 48V Wind turbine, the turbine and its 5m blades, and the anchors and lines to secure the mast. It also contains 8 500W solar panels which mount, 4 on each container.

Setup will begin almost immediately, but the 30m mast won't be erected and the wind turbine operational until Sunday evening. The Commms station will effectively be operational from Easter Monday. When powered it provides a direct hookup to the Mizzurian Network and the internet (as far as it has been re-established) via satellite comms. It also provides a VOIP phone capability. Once fully operational, circa mid afternoon Easter Monday, the wind turbine will on average be able to provide 8Kw of power to the town..

Noticing the strange envelope on her desk, Rhiannon slides it off the edge of the desk with her fingers, then holds it up in front of her face, flipping it back and forth. Appreciating the clean black penmanship with which her name was written and geeking out on the very cool wax seal. The paper felt like real parchment, and the fold was expert and precise. Someone had taken time to make this look beautiful and formal.

"Tiff?" Tiffany was laying on her bed, texting to her boyfriend with her headphones on. "TIFF!!"

Tiffany tilted her head up so she could see Rhiannon. She took one side of her headphones away from her ear. "What?"

"When did this envelope come?" she showed it to her.

Tiffany shrugged. "I don't know. It's your desk. I don't pay attention to what you have there."

"You're saying that you didn't put this here?"

"Nope. I don't think I even noticed it."

Tiffany went back to texting to music. So strange.... Taking a seat in her desk chair, Rhiannon folded her legs under her as she continued to marvel at the sealed letter. She knew very well that things could suddenly appear without rational explanation, but it had just never happened to her. Eventually her curiosity got the upper hand. Cringing at the idea of damaging that beautiful seal, she managed to peel it open without actually breaking it. An invitation? No, it was a personal invitation. What was the Mizzurian Corporation and who was Cordelia Chan? Who the hell named their daughter Cordelia in this century? This was a job for Google.

Rhiannon pulled her laptop from her pack and unfolded it on her desk. After logging in she performed her searches. 'Mizzurian Corporation' first, then, 'Who is Cordelia Chan?'.

That didn't take long. Mizzurian was a game company and Cordelia Chan was a founder who now had controlling interest in the company. The expo was their big convention to announce their stuff. They had a new game BlackShadow Cyberdeck. Apparently it was highly anticipated, and was generating a lot of excitement. Rhiannon wondered if she had ever heard of it. It seems like maybe she did, but she wasn't that big a gamer. Sometimes she would get so long in her own 'other worlds' that she just wasn't up on these things. She certainly had gamer friends she could ask. But how important was it? Her question was more around herself. She wasn't a gamer really and she had no presence in those groups or forums, so why would she get a personal invitation from the big boss lady herself?

Rhiannon looked at the invitation again. There was no contact information or even an RSVP. It said that boss lady Cordelia would come to collect her. It was very presumptuous. In fact she wondered if this was really a version of one of those scams where some fictional African General had £5million they embezzled and needed a native safe harbor. Except maybe Ms.Cordelia would show up and collect Rhiannon and sell her to said African General. Well it would be easy enough to verify. Cordelia's picture was everywhere. When she came to personally collect her, Rhiannon could see for herself if it was really her. If it was, then she could interrogate her on how she won the Mizzurian lottery.

Folding the invitation back into the envelope, Rhiannon put it in her sock drawer under her socks. Whatever this bit of mystery was about, she would find out on Monday, April 29th at 2:30 PM. She expected Ms.Chan would not be even a second late.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:47, Sun 01 May 2022.

An envelope on her nightstand? Someone was giving Winter snail mail? And in her dorm room?

Winter's roommates hadn't arrived yet, so she figured she ought to at least take a look. She slipped one fingernail into the envelope's adhesive, popping the envelope open, and took a look at its contents. "What." That was her only reaction to the letter for about a minute. Who was this person, and why was she inviting Winter to an expo of this...Mizzurian?

Winter pulled out her laptop and looked up Mizzurian. Apparently, they were a Los Angeles-based corporation specializing in robotics, exoskeletons and prosthetic limbs. She wondered why this person had any interest in her, though. Was she trying to set up a contract of some kind with the FRC military? Winter didn't have any useful contacts there, though she figured she might try to set up a bridge if she liked what she saw. Especially if there was something in it for her.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:26, Sun 01 May 2022.

Kenneth stomped the mud from his boots before he ascended the few steps up onto the deck of the cabin.

He and his father had been deep in conversation the whole walk back, and it would likely be all anyone would talk about for the foreseeable future.

He spotted the envelope and cocked an eye curiously, then steadied his rifle on its sling with one hand as he bent over to retrieve it.

He brought it in, and after a few questions to the other family members about it, he pulled out his knife and opened it carefully.

He read it a few times before he made a puzzled sound and handed it to his father to read.

"How do they even know who you are?" He asked sensibility.

"No idea, probably some mistake. Although they did find the place..." Obviously there was no official post office or mail anymore. The only people that supposedly knew they lived there were their neighbors.

"Says transports provided..." Ken quipped with a wry grin. The thought that someone would come all the way out into the sticks to collect him personally was laughable, and his father grinned as well, less jovial though.

"Well, guess we will see..." He shrugged.

-

But that was just the beginning.

The whole family was back out later that afternoon to see the show, and true enough Mizzurian seemed to be holding up their end of the bargain.

It turned into a huge social event, work stopped, the kids watched and played, it was the largest gathering the town had seen since the harvest last fall. Nearly the whole town, population 59, was there.

Some of the more experienced men commented about the equipment, but they tried to stay out of the way of the security detail and workers. The militia stayed armed, they had lived armed for so many years it was part of their culture now, but they were downright cordial considering these were strangers.

And then the hospital was set up, with real doctors, and real medicines.

Just about everyone needed something, but by common agreement the kids went first, then the oldest folks.

Some ailments were ubiquitous. Most people had parasites, fleas, worms and otherwise.  Most people had various levels of respiratory illnesses from so many years of breathing ash. Everyone needed dental work, having gotten by with strong alcohol and pliers for the past few years.

The list would be too long to bear reading, but suffice to say, people wept openly when they learned they would be getting things like replacement eyeglasses, and antibiotics.

Kenneth himself received a surprising clean bill of health considering that he had not seen any real medical care since well before puberty, but they chalked it up to the strength of youth and thought little of it.

By the time people made their way back to their homes in the failing light, the whole feel of the little hamlet had changed.

-

Easter Saturday 2013

They had been eating dinner, fried spring onions, black bread, and a sort of garlic paste when suddenly something beeped...

The microwave was on, and so was the coffee maker. A light in one of the back bedrooms shone out into the hallway.

Everyone broke into broad unbelieving grins at once and looked around, some shook their heads, others laughed.

They had run their generator before, especially in the early years, they were obviously not cave people. They saw electric light on occasion and the solar panel that charged the batteries for the militia radios also charged cell phones when the weather was good.

But this, this was real power, whole house power. They suddenly saw how dirty and dusty and dreary the whole house had seemed in the light of their fireplace.

"They actually did it..." Kenneth's father exclaimed, and stood up from the table.

All of them walked through the house, then outside it, and their neighbors did the same. They literally saw it all in a new light, and memories of a decade ago, when life was normal, came flooding back.

"I don't even know what to do first...." Kenneth exclaimed with a laugh.

"Do you think that DVD player still works?" Emily asked excitedly.

Everyone started charging phones, asif they were afraid it would die again again at any moment.

One day they were living life, doing what the could, and the next...power. Everyone had assumed that they would get it back some day, that the roads would be repaired, and the power grid and the water plant, but it was another thing entirely to actually see that day come.

It brought a lot of hope, much needed hope, and a promise of better things in the days to come.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Sun 01 May 2022.

Harris read over the invitation a couple times and even flipped it around as he inspected it. Quite a bit of information contained in the invitation, but also a lot of questions left unanswered too.

He had a bit of time before this Expo, so he took immediately to looking into details about what it stated. Mizzurian was the first thing he opted to search for, looking through what online sources he could find. The second, of course, was Carnelian - where was it? Finally, the individual who invited him. Seeing what he could find through such sources first, Harris finally opted to inspect the actual invitation itself a little more carefully, seeing if he could detect anything unusual about it as he went over it with a fine tooth comb as the saying were.


If all else failed, of course, he could always call and ask his one final resource for such things so mysterious: his parents.

Based on your Earth Shadow..
There is no Expo.. the effect of a Yellowstone eruption is substantial, although the actual severity of the affect depends on the length and extent of the eruption.
https://www.usgs.gov/faqs/what...ed-again-yellowstone
https://www.usgs.gov/observato...ews_science_products
https://www.usgs.gov/media/ima...wstone-supereruption
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/tvrad...olcano/article.shtml
Mizzurian as a Company exist, they have an office in Sacramento. Beyond that nothing much, i.e no games launch etc.
The article on Cordelia Chan exists as per the website, as this predates the Rodian War events.
Your parents would have no more idea about the Invitation or where it came from than you. They have no more idea about who Cordelia Chan is than you do.

Based on your Shadow Earth
Effectively Mizzurian exists as you've defined, so there won't be a big new 3D virtual reality game, and no Expo.
Mizzurian were at CES 2013 but that was back in January and they are listed as exhibitors at CES 2014.
The article on Cordelia Chan exists as per the website, as this predates the Rodian War events.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 23):

With not much to go on, beyond the existence of such a company, Harris considered the matter carefully. It was an interesting mix of intrigue and curiosity. The invitation's arrival was certainly outside the norm - appearing in his apartment by its own means. Had someone broken in to deliver it? That seemed a bit much. A lot of trouble to go to just for that. But the location alone was of interest.

With only little to go on, Harris opted to pursue it anyway. After all, he was still waiting on job opportunities to present themselves and something like this was just enough of a mystery to draw his attention. Even if it might not specifically be in his field of study... perhaps it just might. The means of its appearance was a question all its own, so Harris looked into arranging a trip on the indicated date out to where this Mizzurian was located. Sacramento. Not perhaps the most ideal place to call a vacation spot after the events of the Rodian War, but things were beginning to settle out these days. At the least, he could find out what this was all about.

Curiouser and curiouser. So she was being invited by a company that was mostly a US defense contractor, to an expo that the Internet had never heard of, and yet their CEO was expert enough in Cantonese to write a death threat to the Big Brothers - in characters complex enough that most Triad goons wouldn't even be able to read them - and stick it in a formal invitation.

Okay, this was getting creepy as fuck. Winter knew that a lot of local government in Shenzhen was still unofficially outsourced to the Triads, but what did that have to do with her? Another piece of a completely insane puzzle.

Winter couldn't do anything about it now, and besides, her roomies would be filing back in soon. One room plus four girls didn't leave much privacy. She resolved to wait, but to set her smartphone's alarm clock on Monday night. The "invitation" didn't sound like an RSVP - and she was apparently going to be snagged at oh-dark-thirty - and she'd see if this Cordelia would be able to get into the dorms after hours without waking everyone else up. (Probably. Boys did it all the time.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:10, Sun 01 May 2022.

2013/03/29 07:20 a.m. 32km southeast of Popular River First Nation, landbase "Poplar River 16", Manitoba, Canada.

---

As the sun rose a scrawny she wolf padded softly into the clearing, majestic oaks towering like a wall around the small area of open sky, deep piles of snow clumped around their bases hidden from the sun.  She favored her back right paw, but was trying not to show signs of this, the frozen earth burning her abraded pad with each step.

The only thing within the clearing was a large mound of snow dusted hides and furs which she approached, and when spotted there was no fire, even a small one, whined softly.  The bundle stirred, a thickly calloused and scarred hand reached up into the hood and pulled an earbud free to dangle, thin tinny music and vocals stretched to fill the space between trees.

^♪♫... been for a walk, I've been for a walk, On a winter's day, on a winter's..._♪ ♫

"Yes Nana, the fire is long out and buried.  Can't risk smoke by day, not this close.  Here, kept the last of the rabbit warm" his voice low, deep, but not gravely or thick with age, the hand dug into the furs and pulled out a small haunch, his head turned, black eyes took her in, dusted in ice and snow, shivering, "See your hunt was unsuccessful today as mine yesterday."

_♫ ♪"... California dreamin', on such a winter's day..."♪ ^♫

The wolf growled softly, but trotted over with a light wag to her tail and took the last of their fare.  The man laughed, his mated black hair spilled out from the hood.  He reached out and pulled the wolf into his lap, tucking hides around her.  "Ya need to warm up, then we leave."

♫ _♪"... the preacher like the cold, preacher like the cold, he knows I'm gonna stay, knows I'm gonna stay..."^♫ ♪

The wolf muttered around the bones of the hunch as she chewed them.

"Yeah, once again 'shuffle' proven to be prescient."  He laughed, "Oh, you grumble that we are on this 'accursed trek'.  Almost home Nana, and I will see with me own eyes what is left."

♪ ♫"All the leaves are brown, all the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray, and the sky is gray,
I've been for a walk, I've been for a walk, on a winter's day, on a winter's day..."♫ ^♫

He leaned forward and laid the back of a hand against the buried firepit, feeling it was cold as the frozen ground, he reached out and gently scattered a pile leaves and debris about.  Doing so he spied the wolf's rear right pads and sighed.

The wolf squirmed sensing, knowing what was coming, but she was not fast or strong enough.  His massive hands grabbed her neck and back, and he pinned her to him, lowered his forehead to hers, and whispered, "Ya foot is hurt again.  Said I'd make ya some booties, but no, and now the pad torn.  I'm gonna to carry ya a few hours, we'll see how it's doing then.  If we find a stream, we'll make a salve and you will wear the booty, or I will tie your muzzle shut and booty all four of your feet, understand?"

^♫ ♪ ♫ _♫  ♪^♫ ♪ ♫ _♫  ♪

She growled, bristled, and squirmed, testing his hands, but she was trapped.  Slowly, little by little her growls ceased and her bristling and tail lowered, until she gently whined acquiescence.

"Good, we're all we have.  What if we have to run fast and long?  Ya four hard lopes away from leaving a blood trail and I will not leave you behind."  He lifted his head and relaxed his hands, "Now I know you hate it, but, hup, up on the shoulder," she put her front paws on his shoulder, he wrapped the hide poncho about her and tied it into a makeshift papoose.  She laid her head down with a huff.  "Yes, watch our six."

He shouldered his old weathered army rucksack, snatched up the spear that was laying at his side, and heaved himself to his feet.

_♫ ♪"...  California dreamin', California dreamin', On such a winter's day, California dreamin'..."♪ ^♫

His large hand tucked the absurdly tiny looking earbud back in, allowing silence to dominate the clearing and he strode off not even leaving footprints to show they ever spoiled the peace of the woods.

---

2013/03/29 11:41 a.m. Popular River First Nation, landbase "Poplar River 16", Manitoba, Canada.

---

It was noon, the giant bear of man had removed the poncho in the sun and tied it under the rucksack, the light breeze stirred his long tangled and matted hair.  He was from the area, or at least baring his height and frame, no one would bat an eye at his high cheekbones, brown skin, rugged nose, wide mouth and chin; the classic Algonquin features.  Yeah, sure, Poplar River was Ojibwa territory, but the northern tribes had done a lot of mixing in the two centuries since they were occupied and relocated.

The two trotted along a graveled road, passing the occasional house.  Most were small and poor looking.  A few long abandoned having collapsed under the ash fall and never being rebuilt, but some were larger, those showed signs of habitation, the roofs swepted, exteriors repaired, gardens maintained.  The wolf ranged back and forth ahead of him, sniffing the air, brush, odd rocks.  Her back right paw was 'bootied' with a small leather sack, she occasionally gave her foot an indignant kick, clearly annoyed at having to wear it.

They finally approached the house they were looking for, windows boarded up, weeds and tall grass choked out the small stone drive, the porch all but hidden behind run-away thorn brush.  "See, told ya the trees would shield it from the ash, roof still looks sound.  Bet the old shed even made it."  He stood in the road and stared at the house lost in thought.

The wolf trotted about, constantly glancing around.  After several very long minutes she whined and bumped him.  He looked down, "Sorry, I was just wondering why they... they never returned?"  His voice sounded smaller, tighter, younger.

The wolf just continued looking at him.  "Yes, I know Mother Elizabeth never liked it here... and Dad always said 'we have family everywhere, so anywhere we go by the water is home'... but still?"

The wolf looked at the house, back to him, the house, him.  "Sigh.  I know, we'll never figure it out standing around out here... and didn't drag ya all this way just look from the road an leave..."  He turned and trudged to the house, scuffing his feet the whole way as though, maybe if he walked just a bit slower, they'd magically arrive before he got there.

He carefully pulled and chopped the thorn bush back from the steps, and then gingerly tested the porch's ability to take his weight, the boards creaked but held as he stepped up, over the three small, very rickety looking steps.  He slipped the machete back into the sheathe on the rucksack, set the sack under the porch window, and leaned his spear next to the door.

The wolf chuffed at him and headed around the side of the house.  He stood a moment, then fished out the chain he wore with the set of keys.  He took it off, and slid one gently into the lock and turned it slowly.  It ground with disuse and rust, but the dead bolt slide back.  He put the keys away and stood another moment, his hand on the door handle.

From behind him he heard her grumble at his slowness.  "Did ya smell anything back there need to worry about?"

Two chuffs of negation, "Well, this is it."  Grumble of annoyance.

He gently turned the handle and pushed the door open, it was stuck with age, but yielded to his firm pressure.  He leaned his head in and was about to step through the doorway when he felt the tug on his leg.  He half stepped back and she slipped through the narrow space between his legs and the frame.  The wolf stopped just inside, sniffed about, sneezed from the thick dust, and then silently padded into the house, cautiously sniffing and occasionally sneezing.

He leaned his head against top of the frame, his hands clenching the wooden jambs.  He took a deep breathe, let it out and then ducked his head and turned his shoulders to step through the door and not catch himself on the tiny house that used to be so very huge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:33, Thu 05 May 2022.

The morning of Saturday 30th March.. at what ever time Mackh decides to rise and exit onto the front porch.

As you turn to close the door or to look back, you notice there is something stuck to the door, what appears to be a parchment envelope with your name handwritten in ink on the front.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:12, Fri 06 May 2022.

Sunday 31st March.. Cambridge MA, Mizzurian Earth, how does Rhiannon spend her Sunday?

Sunday morning is church time. even in Cambridge. But Rhiannon doesn't go to church. Instead, she takes advantage of the thinner crowds to take a long run, go to the gym, and then get a good breakfast. After, she gets in some study time, alternating that with breaks to do laundry so she has the evening to hang out with any friends who aren't drowning in coursework.

This afternoon, she went off with Tiff, Tiff's boyfriend Zach, and two of his friends, Sham and Dwayne. They're at the beach on Cape Cod. Sham and Dwayne are engaged in a mostly subtle competition for Rhiannon's attention. She's doing nothing to discourage them. In fact, she's not so subtle encouraging them.

Returning from the beach, you enter your Dorm building. As you do so, you feel a sort of stabbing sensation behind your eyes (imagine your eyes are very light sensitive and somebody has just turned a 10,000,000 Candela spotlight on you). The closer you get to your dorm room the greater the intensity of the pain, until it becomes completely disorientating, and you stagger and collapse. There is then a very massive increase in intensity and you blackout for a few seconds.
When you come round, the source of the pain has completely gone, although it will take you a couple of minutes to completely regain your senses. Somewhere in the back of your mind you have the image of a tall oriental female with long hair standing further down the corridor from your room. She appeared to have something about the size of smart phone in her left hand, and maybe a sword across her back. Just before you blacked out you think she vanished into thin air. If your senses were to be believed she was the source of what was inflicting the pain, a massively powerful source of the same energy that you unconsciously draw on when producing your Magic Pictures.
When you check your room, the first thing that is evident is that your invitation is on your desk on top of several of your Magic Pictures, all ow which have obviously been moved.

Monday 1st April Circa 11:45am Big Creek, Real Earth.
A Mizzurian Bell Ranger puts down in the centre of town as before. A single female occupant of oriental descent exits the helo. She has on a business type jacket and skirt, knee high boots, with a Mizzurian Flak jacket on over the top. Strapped across her back is a Katana, and she has a pair of Glock pistols in holsters at her waist. Her hair is plaited into a pony tail which hangs down her back. In her hands is a clipboard on which there is a sheaf of paperwork.
Initially she heads for the Comms centre and after making relevant enquires and obtaining relevant directions will make her way to the Elgrim residence. She's looking for a "Mr Kenneth Eday Elgrim"...

Cleaning had been the order of the day since the Elgrim family had started stirring around dawn.

It was not like the house was completely filthy, they had kept it up over the years, but it's difficult to clean carpet without a vacuum, and the renewed life in town had inspired them all into a real Spring Cleaning.

Several things no longer worked, but they were used to that, and there were other things that did and were most welcome. The microwave, the aforementioned vacuum, and the dishwasher all worked. Small things to some, but significant events in their little lives.

They, and most of the other residents, were at the point to where they could not really afford to laze about watching the aircraft and the vehicles. Tom was breathing far easier after his visit to the mobile clinic, had slept through the night, and actually had the energy to pitch in.

Kenneth's mother had answered the door by chance, and Kenneth himself had been picking up wood shavings from where the logs and kindling we're normally stacked next to the fireplace.

Most of the family looked at the woman with reserved, serious, but not hostile stares. At least in Kenneth's case he had ever seen anything like her before.

He was typically shaggy, barefoot, unshaven and dressed in weather stained clothing. He had not washed in some time, but was looking forward to potentially getting the washing machine up and running.

While she...how could he describe her?

He was no stranger to people wearing armor when the situation warranted it, whatever they could get thier hands on in the militia, but she wore it with...a suit?

And she wore...two pistols? He had never seen that, expect maybe in cartoons or silly movies he had seen as a kid.

How was she supposed to hit anything? If she was worried about danger, what would she do past, what, 25? 50 yards at the most?

And the sword... again, he had seen pictures, vaguely remembered that it was some sort of eastern sword, but pretty much ancient history. Actually he remembered seeing a black and white photo in one of the books about the second world war, he had seen one in the book, had thought it odd even then.

He had not forgotten the invitation exactly, but now it all came flooding back.

He approached the door curiously, tossed a handful of shavings into the trash and brushed his hands off.

"I'm Kenneth" he confirmed with a nod, polite enough but reserved. "Is somethin' goin' on?" He asked, and tried not to stare.

He had not actually had many conversations with the new people yet, and he found it made him feel...dirty, or primitive. The sharp contrast between cleanliness, clothing, demeanor, even the cadence and accent of her voice. It was all... unfamiliar.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 31):

When Rhiannon opened her eyes, Tiff and two other girls from the Dorm were standing over her. Tiff had her hands on Rhiannon's shoulders, shaking her gently while the other stood still, looking on with expressions of concern tinged with panic. The lights seemed normal and the normal sounds of activity hummed in her ears. The world felt solid and real. What transpired moments before also felt real as it happened, but now seemed more like a painful dream filling the space between when she blacked out and when she awoke. As blurry as that memory felt. Rhiannon knew it was not conjured from her imagination. There was only one other time in her life that she felt anything similar, and the idea that someone could have just unleashed that on her hollowed her gut and filled it with fear.

"Oh my God, Rhiannon?" Tiffany pulled Rhiannon by the arm to help her to her feet. "What the hell? You gave me a heart attack? You must be dehydrated. Did you drink enough water?"

"I'm fine, Tiff." Rhiannon waved off Tiffany's arm, insisting on standing on her own. "OK, maybe I'm not totally fine. I have a massive headache. I just need to lie down. Can you bring me a couple bottles of water, please?"

Tiffany nodded, running down to the vending machine as Rhiannon staggered into the dorm. Letting the door slam closed behind her, she staggered a few steps before dropping her hand onto her desk for support. That's when she noticed the invitation. Sh had put it in her drawer for safe keeping, but there it was, set upon a stack of her cards, which were also stashed away when she left earlier in the day. She knew immediately that this was a message, but why deliver it in such an unfriendly and agonizing way? Maybe it was meant to scare her off, or perhaps it was some heavy handed way to let her know that the invitation had a connection to her secret talent. She'd always thought that there had to be others who could do the same thing, but this mysterious woman was so much more powerful. Still, if the woman meant Rhiannon real harm, there would have been little she could do about it. It was all so confusing and her head was splitting. As Rhiannon hurriedly hid the invitation, she again felt that familiar tingle. Supported by the episode she just experienced, Rhiannon felt like she was about to connect with people who would turn her world upside down, and she didn't feel even remotely ready for it.

After stuffing her magic evidence into a drawer, she dropped onto the bed and curled under her blanket. Tiff came in carrying three large bottles of water, but Rhiannon waved her off. She needed to sleep. Letting here eyes flutter closed, Rhiannon slipped and swirled down the drain of unconsciousness.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:42, Sat 07 May 2022.

She initially appears a little shocked at your appearance but covers it very well..
"Nothing to concern you Mr Elgrim, just routine"
Her tone is calm and level, like this is all a little tedious
"Just need to verify that you've received your Invitation and that you're planning to attend the Expo.."

Recognition came into Kenneth's eyes and his family visibly relaxed. They shared a few looks and Kenneth stepped back from the door in an inviting way. "Oh!" He broke into a relieved smile. "Gotcha, yeah." He nodded. "I...uh, didn't quite know what to make of that at first" he admitted.

"It sounds interesting, I would love to go, but I don't really know why I would get an invitation, of all people. We figured it must have been some kinda mistake" He spoke as if the reason was obvious.

"Was your company really gonna send somebody all the way up here just to get me?" He asked skeptically. If she was serious, and she had taken the time to come out here, he would also need to find decent clothing, enough food for the trip, and a few other necessities.

Although he had never been up that way he figured he it had to be at least a 200 mile trip, a truly daunting distance in his world.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:45, Sat 07 May 2022.

2013/03/29 12:05 a.m. The old home of Joe and Elizabeth Whitsed, Popular River First Nation, landbase "Poplar River 16", Manitoba, Canada.

---

He stood in the mudroom for a minute, feeling the closeness of the walls, the smallness of place he'd once called home.  He sighed, no it was gone.  This was not home.  The 'homeness' was gone, relocated somewhere with his parents, maybe.  Probably simply gone forever now.  He took a few deep breathes, holding and releasing, and with them letting go of his hope, fear, anger, and sadness.  She was right, it was time to move on.

He called into the house, "Ya were right, time to leave the past the past.  Do some tidying up here, put the key in the mail box an a letter to who come along next."

He got no response.  He took a few steps out of the mudroom into the cross hall between the kitchen/dining area and the front room, looking in each, and then up the stairs, he called out "Nana, answer me, did ya find something, are you hurt..." then he went quiet, motionless, and listened for the sounds of anyone, anything moving.

He turned at the sound of nigh imperceptible footsteps.  She stepped into the archway between the front and back rooms, a slim but athletically toned mixed Amerind young woman, her hair short, pixieish cut, dressed in durable hiking wear as she'd been when he'd last seen her.

"I am glad you have finally decided to listen to reason.  There is so much more than the past to consider.  It is important, but I told you not to let it dominate your choices."  Her accent was "middle america newscaster" with a hint of southern twang.

"Ah.  Ya rejoined me then... Robyn."  He rubbed his face, as though he could scrub the irritated look from it, "Okay.  Should be happy, but... well.  Admit to some level of annoyance."

"No more so than the usual I suspect."

"Well, long as we talkin again an ya being helpful, why not take bedrooms up stairs, I'll take down here, let's open the windows an air this dust out a bit.  An make sure ain't nothing left here to connect to the family.  Sleep here tonight, move along in the mornin, unless you changed ya-" he said the last with a wry grin and an upbeat note, knowing it was needling, but he couldn't resist.

"Not even a little." She cut him off. "This place is still far to dangerous for us to remain.  Besides, I quite liked the look of Virginia.  Even you remarked the mountains were spectacular and the weather was very pleasant.  If you insist upon a lake side residence, there was that one town, mmm, Smith Mountain Lake?  I would say Georgia, I've longed for some nice swamps, but you rather ruined that with the idiotic cairn marker you carved 'Nana Lepwa' into.  You'll have to avoid that area for decades, perhaps a century now.  So very limiting."

He shook his head and turned muttering, "Her death was momentous occasion, needed proper send off," and headed into to the kitchen and started opening windows.

She called after him as she moved up the stairs, "If that's all then, there should be old rags in the pantry, and probably old linens upstairs for dusting.  They will be coming apart, but we should put them out as well, with anything else that needs disposal.  Leave this place bare."

The two spent the afternoon dusting, sneezing, and airing the house.  He did check the old shed out back, and no, it had succumbed to the ash, roof half fallen in, most of the tools left behind were piles of rust, but there was one wood axe and a few sharpening stones that were still in excellent shape, protected in the back corner.  He added them to his ruck.

Late in the afternoon he made a small fire pit in the backyard and burned the last of any personal belongings they'd found.  Robyn sang a few medicine songs, and moved things about in the yard, a stone here, chimes moved from the porch to the trees, a shined up hub cap to catch the morning sun there.  After the fire died, she claimed they and his parents were as severed from the house as she could make them without burning the whole place down.

That evening he wandered the town, spending the very last of his cash on fish and potatoes, enough to fill them both for the night and leave some leftover for breakfast.  Hopefully hunting or fishing would be better tomorrow.

He ended up sleeping in the back room, his poncho as a blanket, rolled up clothes as a pillow.  His old bed far to small for him and he was loathe to sleep in his parents room, which Robyn took anyway.  Neither wanted to spend too much time in Nana Lepwa's old attic room.

---

2013/03/30 07:05 a.m. The old home of Joe and Elizabeth Whitsed, Popular River First Nation, landbase "Poplar River 16", Manitoba, Canada.

---

They rose early, as was custom just before the dawn's false light, they the ate cold fish and fried potatoes in a peaceful silence.  When they finished they gathered what little they had.  Robyn handed her pack to Machk, "There is one last thing I wish to do in the attic room, wait for me outside," he gave her a look that said 'not this again', "I promise, I will be joining you."

He looked at her earnest face a few moments, sighed, took her pack as well, and headed for the door as she skipped up the stairs.  Machk stopped in the mudroom, readjusted the axe in the ruck so it the handle would sit just below the top of his head and stop banging into the lintels and ceiling beams.

He looked back up the stairs, "Going out, don't be long," turned and opened the door, it fluttered gently as the door swung in.

He froze, his blood running cold, the feeling of conflict rising.  He took a half step out the door, his eyes darted around the yard, the street, the neighboring homes.  Nothing stirred except a few birds in the sky a distance a way, he waited a moment, and no, he felt no eyes upon him.  He breathed, calmed, and ducked back in, depositing the packs on the mudroom floor, the spear leaned into the corner, and from there quietly called upstairs, "Robyn, come down here."

She heard the seriousness in his voice and came quickly down.  Her look was concerned and inquisitive, he just pointed to the envelope on the door.  She moved to the door and crouched, taking it all in.

"I don't see or smell anything off.  It's yours, I should not touch it until you have received it and chosen to pass it to me, there may be magic upon it."

He looked at her, "Is that safe?  Should we, should we just leave it?  Put miles between it and us?"  He didn't sound frantic, just concerned.  Maybe slightly more annoyed that she'd been so very right, the future loomed suddenly, one he wasn't yet prepared for.

She looked at him, her face communicating the unspoken 'foolish boy', "Someone has found us.  Or you at the very least.  It is meant for you, whether warning or invitation, we can not tell until you open it," she stood and stepped back, passing through the mudroom into the hall, giving him space.

"Right," he pulled a bowie knife from the sheathe strapped to the small of back under his loose shirt, and crouched down to examine the 'envelope'.  Then he moved to the side and gently pried it using the tip of the knife, the flattened wax disk holding it to the door popping free easily.  He caught it before it could fall far, stood and shut the door.

They moved into the kitchen, he set the bowie knife on the counter and stood a moment lightly holding the envelope by opposite corners, letting it spin gently, slowly as he contemplated it.  He stopped it, and turned the wax seal to Robyn, "Do you recognize this seal?  This a House of the Lords of Change?"

"If it is a House of the Court, it is not one I recognize, but I was no scholar of the heraldry.  It may be... his arms, or any other.  It may also not be connected in any way, but if not, it is passing strange for a local, they have not done communiques in this style for a long time."

He tapped the envelope against the bridge of broad nose a moment, as though he could knock understanding of it straight into himself.  Then he snatched up the knife and in a smooth motion skimmed the wax seal off the envelope, laying the knife and seal aside on the counter top.  He unfolded it and read the contents, his face becoming even more confused.

"I...  What?"  He passed it to Robyn to read and leaned against the counter to watch her face.  "What ya make of this?"

"Hmm.. Yes.. Sorry to be rude but I really do need to see the invite if you don't mind, formalities and all that.. and then I need you to sign this form.

Assuming you fetch the invite, she'll examine it briefly then hand it back, then pass you the clipboard and indicate a space at the bottom of the page, before passing you a pen
"sign here please"
Assuming you sign the  form and hand the clipboard back she'll say
"transport arrangements are above my pay grade I'm afraid. So as it says you'll be collected I would guess that is likely to be the case."
As she reaches the door to leave she turns and asks "what's your shoe size?"

Kenneth did sign, it had been a little while since he had signed anything and he did so slowly and deliberately.

He felt excitement well up within him. Apparently this whole thing might actually be happening. He would get to go to Sacramento, he smiled at the thought.

At the question in parting he thought for a brief second. "Thirteen...why?" He asked in turn, a little puzzled.

"No reason.. just curious"
She leaves walking back to the helo which then heads back in the direction of Sacramento.

Robyn takes the invite and examines it, finally sniffing the paper
"I have about as much an idea as to what this is about as you do, but the invite is for you alone.
The paper is odd, never encountered any paper like this before.
I assume this is a Company logo in the top left. No idea who they are, nor what an 'Expo' is, nor who this CEO Cordelia Chan is.
If we had internet then we could look, what's it called 'goggling it', really need to brush up on a lot of this modern jargon but can't do it from up here."
She pauses briefly..
"We know Winnipeg is a bust, and East is generally better so we could try Thunderbay, its on Superior, so might have fared better."

Friday 5th April .. how do you spend your day?

Big Creek circa 12:15 Thursday 4th April
A man in Mizzurian coveralls knocks on the Elgrim's Door.
"Delivery for Mr Kenneth Elgrim"
He has a large (1m long, 0.6m Wide, 0.6m tall) sturdy cardboard box, bound taped, and with the Mizzurian Logo on the side.
It has a standard "packing distribution" label with the Elgrim address and standard id (1 of 1) on the top.
In the top of the box there is an envelope with "FAO Kenneth" on the front. Inside is a hand written note which just says "Can't have you appearing dishevelled".
The box contains
1 pair Dewalt black Safety boots
1 pair Stanley buff tan safety boots
1 can suede waterproofing
1 pair Oxford Brogues in black
2 pairs dk blue denim jeans - straight leg
1 pair black denim jeans - tight fit
1 pair black tailor fit trousers
1 pair dk grey slacks
6 cotton t-Shirts (2 dk blue, 2 dk green, 2 black)
2 cotton sweat shirts (1 dk blue, 1 black)
2 silk shirts (1 dk blue, 1 fushica)
1 Blazer (dk grey).

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 42):

While it seemed the details of his collection would be handled on the 29th, he had quite a bit of time to kill between now and then it seemed. Looking into the company - and this mysterious Ms. Chan - only found a little bit of information, Harris thought he'd follow up with a bit more.. unconventional means.


His morning went rather predictably, wake up, shower, eat, then go for a run in Central Park again. He kept an eye out for job interviews of course, but around ten in the morning it was late enough for his next course of action. One that he tried to avoid most times, but in this case, he thought it might be worth the effort.


So he called his father. Given the man's position, he'd be able to dig a little bit more deeply in his work to see what information was available about both Mizzurian and Chan. Given the unusual nature of the invitations' arrival, he wanted to be as prepared as possible going forward.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 43):

The whole Elgrim family gathered around the kitchen table as Kenneth pulled out the clothing within, one item at a time.

The younger family members had outgrown their nicer clothes many years ago, and they had never been replaced, while the older members still retained some of theirs. There had not been many reasons for formal attire despite this.

So everyone felt the fabric and commented on this and that.

Nicer clothing was no mystery in their part of the world, people still wore it for weddings, funerals and things of that nature, but nobody looked twice if people showed up in whatever they had on hand.

With the power restored, Kenneth's mother was able to iron, and then they plugged in the hair trimmers and she gave Kenneth a haircut and trimmed his beard. He was still a young man, and his beard was not as full as it might become as he aged, but it was enough to cover his face.

All the while the family speculated as to how Kenneth had come to their attention, and why they were being so generous. Nothing really made sense, at least nothing they could come up with.

As you leave your apparent building to go for our run, standing on the opposite side of the street(i.e. the park side) you notice a girl/young woman. It's not that such a person would ordinarily be out of place standing there apparently staring into space, it's a whole combination of little things, although it does take you a few seconds to make the realization that she is out of place by being there.
She's tall for a girl, well over 6ft, has long black hair, and is of oriental descent. She's dressed in well made knee-high black leather boots, possibly the sort you'd wear riding, a pleated red mid-thigh length skirt, and black leather jacket over a T-Shirt. She appears to have something over her back, a sword perhaps. She has something in her left hand, could be a mobile phone. Whilst she also appears to be staring into space, you're pretty sure she's also watching you.


Given you're on what I'm designating for the purposes of this game incarnation, an S1 shadow Earth, the following is applicable to Mizzurian. Yes they exist as a fairly large software/games company, and yes they did acquire the other companies as per the Gartner report. However, given the state of the shadow there is no Expo, nor Disjunction Game, or much else. They do appear to have put some significant efforts into assisting their workforce and local communities through the immediate aftermath of the Yellowstone eruption, and continue to do so. The Time Magazine article on Cordelia Chan is mostly unchanged (a greater reflection of reality pre the effects of the Rodian Wars).

Friday 5th April circa 3pm to 11pm .. how do you spend your time?

Fridays were, like most days except Sunday, pretty regimented for Winter. The Party meeting started at three-sharp like always, though today was the day they turned in articles for the Party publications and the student newspaper, so they actually had to do a little work. "Softball the Commies, Satan," she said to Satan Lang as she read his article. "Unity Government, remember? We shouldn't be tearing into one of our coalition partners this hard, the people upstairs will complain." And that led to them wasting too much time in a meaningless circle-jerk about whether the Tsinghua chapter was for or against the current governing coalition before they got back on task and agreed to avoid taking a too-controversial stance. They were running a bit over, so at 4:45 Winter said she'd make the final decisions on submissions and edit Satan's article to strip out some of the more incendiary language, and have everything wrapped up by next Friday.

Five-o-clock, dinner, Fish Friday. Winter mentally resolved to find out which assministrator had decided this was a good idea and meet him in a dark alley. At least the shrimp fried rice was good today.

Six-o-clock was supposed to be Study Hall, but here she got a break. Today, the proctor was her English teacher, an American with fake blond hair and a spray-on tan, and that meant she could cut class and not be reported. She arrived, signed the attendance sheet, and slipped out as soon as it wouldn't be too obvious. Checking the movies on her smartphone...oh, she hadn't seen Divergent yet and it had a showing they could make if they hustled, so the next step was to use her dating app. Spotting one of her favorites with a clear schedule, she called up Yufan - an attractive thirtysomething woman who she'd been with before - and arranged a rented movie date. It was short notice, but they were both in easy range of the theater and Winter could cover Yufan's bus fare. And for "after the date," Winter pencilled in an hour at a love hotel. Which was of course completely uncompensated, and Yufan's willingness to visit such hotels was in no way related to the size of Winter's "tip." As far as the law was concerned, that was that.

If nothing intervened, Winter would make it back to her dorm and flop into bed around 10:30 at night.

You leave the cafeteria distracted by your plans to skip your next scheduled class. After about 15 seconds you stop.
The tall oriental female standing about 30yds away, apparently staring into space, is out of place. Not because she's tall, well over 6ft, or because she's oriental, but because of her dress, too western.
She's dressed in well made knee-high black leather boots, possibly the sort you'd wear riding, a pleated red mid-thigh length skirt, and black leather jacket over a T-Shirt. She appears to have something over her back, a sword perhaps. She has something in her left hand, could be a mobile phone. Whilst she also appears to be staring into space, you're pretty sure she's also watching you.
As you turn towards her, she smiles at you raises the object in her left hand, and a couple of seconds later vanishes into thin air.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 46):

While the information - or lack thereof - he obtained from his father didn't surprise him at that point, his morning jog was much more 'out of the ordinary'. Seeing the woman across the street who was playing at "watching but not watching", all the little things added up to give him a real sense of strangeness. Her height could be ignored, her position on the street and even her attire - all that could be simply something new in a city this size and with so much going on.

However, seeing the larger object on her back - possibly a sword - combined with everything else.. that really brought home the fact that 'this wasn't normal'. But rather than give away the fact he had spotted her himself, as she was talking on the phone and trying to be discreet, Harris turned and began his jog lazily. An easy jog early in the morning. But he altered his route somewhat so that he could try to keep a clear eye on the woman as he went. Seeing if she turned to follow or merely continued to stare into space at the building.

When you turn to look back she's not there.. apprently just vanished into thin air......

[quote GM Note Back Fill for Cassandra Troy]
The problem with Timeshare is that the 2 weeks before Easter and the 2 weeks after tend to be busy, so finding a suitable empty property tends to be a little difficult. This means that you've been using your London bolt-hole for the last couple of weeks for sleeping, commuting backwards and forwards on a daily basis.
You return in the early hours of Easter Saturday morning, having worked at the seafront bar until about 11pm, before spending a couple of hours in your favourite nightclub.
It's difficult to miss the 2 envelopes on your art table, the fine paper one with your name handwritten in ink, and the seal on the back, and the more mundane slightly bulging brown A5 envelope with "With Compliments" hand written in ink on the front. The contents of the brown A5 envelope are as described on your character sheet.

Winter blinked. An extremely tall woman in a suit was there one moment, and vanished the next. Almost by reflex, she opened her "third eye" and sensed around, trying to sense the strange woman's chi in the crowd.

You sense nothing unusual, although maybe a residual echo of dark(-ve) chi.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 52):

'Whilst returning to the bunker is generally relaxing it's been both exasperating and irritating to have had to do this on a daily basis recently.'

Letting out a sigh, she dumped her stuff on the closest chair. Moving to remove her heels she pauses, somethings wrong .... something has changed in this room since her last visit.
Quickly looking around Cassandra spots it easily, two envelopes sitting innocently on her art desk. As if they hadn't appeared in a place only she should be able to access.

Moving over to the desk, Cassandra stares in slight shock. "This... This is f*** impossible" she whispers anxiety setting in. Once again she looks around her bunker, nothing had been touched and there is no sign of forced entry. Biting her lip she turns back to the envelopes.

Tentatively she picks up the one with her name on it, 'it's a good quality paper'she thinks turning it over .... 'a wax seal??' well at least she knows whoever left this is a pretentious wanker. Swifty ripping it open, Cassandra is met with another piece of expensive stationary, removing it, she reads the elegant writing.

......

A rush of anger and confusion flooded her body. 'Who on earth broke in here and left her A GOD DAMN PARTY INVITE.' Cassandra runs her free hand through her hair in distress, what is going on here. Why is this Cordelia Chan inviting Cassandra of all people to some fancy event.

Glancing back at the desk she is reminded of the other package. Still holding the invitation she picks up and opens the surprising thick envelope. Eyebrows furrowing she pulls out the first piece of paper .. "What?" it's a birth certificate for one Victoria Katherine McClure.

"Even the same date of birth as me" she muses.

Pulling the other documents out Cassandra finds; A Spanish NHS registration card, Spanish Tax Registration, Spanish Driving Licence,Spanish A2 Motorcycle Licence,( Ironic as she cant drive) and a Mastercard Debit card, all under that name. But they all had a passport acurate picture of her on them and it was recent as her hair was freshly dyed. How did they know she need ID, they must have been watching her for a while now ... god she needed to sit down.

Numbly Cassandra moved over to her coffee table and two arm chairs. Discarding the papers onto the table she collapsed into the free chair and just stared at the documents.

.
.
.
.

Cassandra blinked, her eyes hurt and she was thirsty. Glancing at her clock she did a double take, bloody hell she'd been staring into space for an two hours. She stood up and streached her back making a satisfying crack, she took the few steps over to a bowl, filling it with water from her container and splashing her face with it. Drying her face she made her decision, she was going to find out who and how these people got in her.

"But first sleep, then I'll do some reasearch on Mizzurian and this Cordilia, I wont let these arsehole get away with this"


This message was last edited by the GM at 19:53, Sat 21 May 2022.

Saturday 6th April.. what are your plans for the day...
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:50, Fri 20 May 2022.

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 56):

Cassandra woke around 08:30 in the morning (Uk Time)

Yawning she searches for her phone, switching it on she squinted at the screen noting the time, she checked the weather. " Alright it's cool this morning but by 1 it will reach 26 degrees. Not too bad"

Today Cassandra is going to stop by her favourite cafe for breakfast mostly just to use their free wifi. After that, she would find a good spot to draw until she was tired or it was dinner time.

Getting out of bed she selected some clothes, a bodysuit, some shorts, and a beach cover-up
forgoing accessories today. Changing out of her pajamas, she applies eyeliner and lipstick, before shoving a towel into her bag after making sure it has what she'll need for a tourist watercolor. Shoving her feet into some socks, she pulls on a well-worn pair of boots and selecting the right card and she's gone.


-----

Appearing in a secluded alleyway, she heads out towards the cafe.
Her presence is announced with by a jingle of a bell, Cassandra smiled upon entering, Amelia was on shift this morning, Amelia was the one who often recommended her spots to draw, ones that the tourists frequent, that and she was a dreadful gossip.
"Ah, buenos días Cassandra" Amelia exclaimed "What would you like today?"

"Hola Amelia, I'll have a Latte, the full breakfast"

"Alright take a seat and we'll have it ready shortly"

.
.
.
.
.

After eating Cassandra headed out and over the beach, selecting a spot with a good vantage point she set out the towel. Sitting down she pulled out her larger sketchbook and pencils and watercolour.

Your concentration on your painting, is disturbed by the sound of a high powered motorcycle being revved. Such motorcycles tend to rare along the sea front promenade, at least during the day.
As you turn to look, you see a tall rider, from the build most likely female, in a black and red set of leathers dismounting a large bike (750cc Yamaha FZ1 if you're interested).
As the rider raises their black reflective visor you note three things

1. The rider looks oriental, and has long black hair which sticks out from under the helmet.
   
2. The Helmet, whilst a vibrant red, appears to have a custom paint job, three interlocking rings in gold.
   
3. They appear to have something slung across their back. The bit you can see above their left shoulder looks a bit like the hilt of a Katana.

As you take this all in you feel a you feel a sort of stabbing sensation behind your eyes (imagine your eyes are very light sensitive and somebody has just turned a 10,000,000 Candela spotlight on you).
The figure moves a few feet closer to you, which makes your head hurt even more, and then just stands there apparently staring into space.
From the movement of the figure and the way they're standing, despite the rising pain in your head reinforces your belief that they're female. Who ever they are they're tall, well over 6ft

What are you going to do, if anything?

In reply to GameMaster (msg # 58):

Wincing Cassandra looks away ' That's strange I don't usually get headaches', she reaches for her water bottle and takes a swig. Looking back at the stranger she wonders if they're waiting for someone. Either way, none of her business, returning to her image she continues to work. Although ... Cassandra thinks to herself ' she would be interesting to draw...'

After about 10 minutes you hear the sound of the motorcycle starting. The rider revs the bike once, then you here the sound of it pulling away. As the bike pulls away your headache disappears.