shatterverse | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

ditditdit deeetdeeetdeeet ditditdit

The areas turned out to be residential, and every home Leah tried had a personal computer. None, however, had any electricty coming into their (twin round pin) mains sockets, so trying to find people online was out, even if she could use a foreigncomputer with no access software.

ditditdit deeetdeeetdeeet ditditdit

So instead she started collecting batteries and settled down in one of the more secure first floor flats to pull apart a hifi system and construct a useable Short Wave radio. This she tuned through miles of thick white noise while adding a transmitter.

ditditdit deeetdeeetdeeet ditditdit

The morse code transmitter is easy. It's a few days and a lot of cannibalised electrical appliances before she perfects a battery powered motion device that will keep the SOS code on a loop on a fixed frequency, but she manages that.

ditditdit deeetdeeetdeeet ditditdit

That channel stays open while she starts building a new radio.

[OOC: very much open, but please do not tag if your character would be able to locate and rescue Leah. I want to keep her lost for a while]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ow! Shit!"

The incoming message caught Leah by surprise so hard that her hand slipped and the craft kife she'd been using to strip wires sliced into her finger. sucking on that, she crosses over to the completed radio in seconds.

--- Location unknown. Probably Europe.
Isolated, no medical emergency.
Where are you?---

The code is quick to tap out, but she's grinning around her finger. CONTACT.

One of the best information experts on the planet and she was reduce to Morse code. Babs could almost scream with frustration except that it wouldn't get anything done.

--- Confirm Europe. Insufficient equipment for better location.
Current base in central United States.
Have access to international transport. ---

Barbara can do Morse code from memory, but she's already got a piece of software to do the translation work for her. It lets her keep an eye on her other systems while still operating low-tech.

Leah, fortunately, is fluent in Morse. After Braille, it's the alphabet she uses most frequently in her day to day life, not liking too much translation software. But she's also fiddling with the radio to hook up her mic and earpiece, now she has an open channel.

--- Cant give more accurate data than that. Can you tell me whats happened? ---

Babs slides her glasses from her face and rubs her eyes. "Start with the easy questions why don't you?" she mutters.

--- Basic collapse of civilization.
Estimate 90% global population loss.
Trigger event less than two years ago.
Still acquiring further data. ---

She can't say it was a surprise, but still:

--- Shite. ---

Then;

--- Do you have audio capacity? Switching to vocal. ---

Babs checked over her setup and nodded.

--- Switching to audio. ---

Then, "This is Oracle. Signal check."

"Oracle?"

Leah's Liverpudlian accent is thick from disuse, and her grin comes through even thicker.

"Codename, or you actually work for the software company?"

"Old habit," Barbara kept her voice distortion program running. "Did some contract work for them when they needed a pinch hitter though."

"You've got no idea where you are? I've got transport, but I'll need a location if you want pickup."

"You said," Leah says. Honestly, she's not thrown by the secrecy, but
she's always found it rude, and old habits die hard.

"I got Europe: Western or central.. Left hand drive, twin round pins
on the plug sockets. Computer in every household. I could go looking
for a public information building, but with my luck lately that could
mean me wandering into the Alps on me own, y'know? I figured making
contact would come first.

"I know it's not Madrid, though."

"I definitely don't recommend moving if you're secure. Especially not if you're not packing a serious arsenal. We've lost entire cities."

She sighs, and shakes it off. "Architecture wrong for Madrid?" she asks.

"Nah, I just ran into a few lads the other day who were lying when they said it was," Leah says cheerfully. "And yeah, seeing as all I got is their pistol, and I'm not a sharp shooter anymore, I reckon I'm gonna stay here as long as the food holds out.

"How come you got transport?"

"Got lucky. I was mostly operating out of a jet when I got pulled in. I managed to come through with my satcomm gear and most of my computers." There's a pause as she rubs her temples, "But there's almost no infrastructure here. I've only got two satellites in orbit at the moment, and my window's short so I may lose you once the thing goes over the horizon."

"Do you have a prioritized needs list? Information I've got plenty of. Actual supplies are short and I don't know where to drop it anyway."

"I dunno how long my food's gonna last," Leah admits, "but I reckon I'm good for at least a month. Water's tastes like piss, but it's flowing, so...reckon I'm pretty sorted for everything except information and company.

"And now I know there're satellites, I may get lucky and find one a' them battery powered GPS widgets."

"GPS is still spotty in a lot of places, but you might manage to get a signal." Babs taps a couple of keys. "How do you want to go into my database. I'll meed to assign you a communications code to reach me with."

"Nice phrasing, man" Leah observes. "You sound like someone in the business. Assign your own code, I'll never see it. My usual handle's the Innovator."

"You probably won't see it, true, but if you know what I've got you listed as then it'll make it slightly easier to figure out if someone you meet works for mr other not."

"'Innovator', huh?" Babs grins, "You sound like my sort of woman."

Barbara grins as her fingers flick across the keys. "'Innovator' it is. You can identify yourself on just about any channel and get some sort of response from me, assuming Iabve got enough running nearby to get a signal to you."

Leah smirks. Yep, this woman's in the business, all right.

"And what's your sort of woman?"

"The kind that thinks," Babs laughs. "And unless your name is an ironic joke, it suggests that you do."

"Nah, my sense of irony borders on the severely inappropriate," Leah admits. "I wouldn't use it to choose a codename. One'a me mates came up with it in the field- s'where most of them come from, if i'm gonna be honest."

"You're operating on short wave at the moment. I'm guessing you don't have much in the way of gear with you." And that any abnormal abilities were't going to help with communication or mobility.

"All I've got is the headset from my PC and a retractable tripod," Leah confirms. "The radio's cannibalised from the stereo system in this flat. I wouldn't go by the name if I relied on being super-prepared."

She snorts softly in laughter.

"OK, tell me I'm an idiot for that."

Barbara's grin is audible even through the voice distortion, "You're an idiot."

She shakes her head, "At least you can improvise. Most people we've run into are the next best thing to helpless."

"A social worker once called me a 'survivor'," Leah says. "It's a buzzword to say I ain't dead yet."

Social worker... "Grew up fast, did you? That's unfortunately common in our line, huh?"

"I take it you're alone? Run into any survivors? There are pockets of them all over the place. Be careful: some of them are decidedly unfriendly."

"If we grow up at all," Leah counters. "Still play with toys - and yeah, found about six survivors, all male, all unfriendly, all still surviving."

That last fact carries a note of indifference, making it difficult to tell if Leah's relieved or regretful about that fact.