Roxanne Ritchi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pluckyreporter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowl2011-11-24 11:28 am
pluckyreporter) wrote in capeandcowl2011-11-24 11:28 am
Entry tags:
Report #008 - Shanksgiving Day Report, video.
We're here at the annual Thanksgiving Day parade...
[Roxanne Ritchi was just doing her thing; standing over on that place reserved for the press, her badge in clear view. Talking to a brainbot run camera about Thanksgiving and family and keeping that smile on because she's riding the wave of pleasant happy emotions from the people around who are excited for the parade, happy to be with their families. She doesn't have anything like that to go home to; just an empty house and Megamind's robots. The swell of emotion from the crowd makes it easy to forget that, and just do her job. Discussing the affect of imPorts on the City, on characters now lost from local fiction and how they are replaced.]
[Oh well; at least Snoopy's still there, right?]
[But then something goes wrong in the background. Actually, several things start to go wrong. A balloon ruptures. And then another. They're a good distance away from the action, though -- so far. Nearly everybody on the press barge goes silent in their reports for a while, and all of them turn, Roxanne among them.]
What the...
[She drops the mic a bit, and watches as it all goes wrong. People are starting to shout, starting to scream. Waves of motion roll through the crowd - someone's dropped a boulder in an otherwise calm pond of humanity, and it's starting to see ripples.]
[softly, barely heard, over Roxanne's mic:]
No pain -- just fear. Terror. Not hurting-- starting to-- oh--
[There's a brief moment of scuffle on camera; the people there on the press barge don't know what they're seeing at first, but Roxanne does. She grabs the nearest by the arm, and yanks her yard to get her attention. Roxanne is white to the lips, but she has it together. She didn't survive years of this sort of crap by losing it when everything went wrong.]
Gas attack. You've got to go. We've got to get out of here-- don't panic, stay calm. You will be fine if you stay calm. Get your crew and go. Go.
[The cloud is expanding in the distance, swallowing up more people as the gas disperses. It's all over, really, in a matter of seconds as the sickly stuff washes over the crowd, down roads and alleys.]
[Roxanne helps them get down off the press barge; she has no crew to wrangle her and so has extra hand to help delicate pretty ladies from television stations and their bumbling camera men down-- directing the brainbots to keep their eyes on the action as they move. After that, it's just Roxanne is no longer on screen - but she's still on the air. Her and her microphone, a tumble of noise against the image of that mass of gas. Eventually, it reaches the brainbots; thankfully, they don't panic. They're robots. That's part of what makes them fantastic tools. But without direction, they simply record the chaos as it unfolds.]
[One might wonder what happened to the reporter. There's really no need to. There's a clatter and a cry of pain that might be hers. Breathing turned rapid, but not yet panicked. The gas has reached her -- or the wave of emotion has, one or the other. There's a thump, a crunch, and the sound goes garbled. A scraping noise, even as the brainbots continue to stream the madness as it unfolds, snippets of chaos caught as the gas begins to disperse over a wider area. Stomping feet and the screams of terrified citizens become the new soundtrack to what looks like a terrorist attack, over a distorted, possibly damaged, microphone. There's no way to tell what sounds are Roxanne's -- or if she's making sound at all, at this point.]
[The rest? It's not pretty.]
[It will continue to be not pretty, until the feed cuts off, much -- much -- later.]
((OOC: Responses will be a day late, per Roxanne is in fear gas central and being trampled by panicked citizens.))
[Roxanne Ritchi was just doing her thing; standing over on that place reserved for the press, her badge in clear view. Talking to a brainbot run camera about Thanksgiving and family and keeping that smile on because she's riding the wave of pleasant happy emotions from the people around who are excited for the parade, happy to be with their families. She doesn't have anything like that to go home to; just an empty house and Megamind's robots. The swell of emotion from the crowd makes it easy to forget that, and just do her job. Discussing the affect of imPorts on the City, on characters now lost from local fiction and how they are replaced.]
[Oh well; at least Snoopy's still there, right?]
[But then something goes wrong in the background. Actually, several things start to go wrong. A balloon ruptures. And then another. They're a good distance away from the action, though -- so far. Nearly everybody on the press barge goes silent in their reports for a while, and all of them turn, Roxanne among them.]
What the...
[She drops the mic a bit, and watches as it all goes wrong. People are starting to shout, starting to scream. Waves of motion roll through the crowd - someone's dropped a boulder in an otherwise calm pond of humanity, and it's starting to see ripples.]
[softly, barely heard, over Roxanne's mic:]
No pain -- just fear. Terror. Not hurting-- starting to-- oh--
[There's a brief moment of scuffle on camera; the people there on the press barge don't know what they're seeing at first, but Roxanne does. She grabs the nearest by the arm, and yanks her yard to get her attention. Roxanne is white to the lips, but she has it together. She didn't survive years of this sort of crap by losing it when everything went wrong.]
Gas attack. You've got to go. We've got to get out of here-- don't panic, stay calm. You will be fine if you stay calm. Get your crew and go. Go.
[The cloud is expanding in the distance, swallowing up more people as the gas disperses. It's all over, really, in a matter of seconds as the sickly stuff washes over the crowd, down roads and alleys.]
[Roxanne helps them get down off the press barge; she has no crew to wrangle her and so has extra hand to help delicate pretty ladies from television stations and their bumbling camera men down-- directing the brainbots to keep their eyes on the action as they move. After that, it's just Roxanne is no longer on screen - but she's still on the air. Her and her microphone, a tumble of noise against the image of that mass of gas. Eventually, it reaches the brainbots; thankfully, they don't panic. They're robots. That's part of what makes them fantastic tools. But without direction, they simply record the chaos as it unfolds.]
[One might wonder what happened to the reporter. There's really no need to. There's a clatter and a cry of pain that might be hers. Breathing turned rapid, but not yet panicked. The gas has reached her -- or the wave of emotion has, one or the other. There's a thump, a crunch, and the sound goes garbled. A scraping noise, even as the brainbots continue to stream the madness as it unfolds, snippets of chaos caught as the gas begins to disperse over a wider area. Stomping feet and the screams of terrified citizens become the new soundtrack to what looks like a terrorist attack, over a distorted, possibly damaged, microphone. There's no way to tell what sounds are Roxanne's -- or if she's making sound at all, at this point.]
[The rest? It's not pretty.]
[It will continue to be not pretty, until the feed cuts off, much -- much -- later.]
((OOC: Responses will be a day late, per Roxanne is in fear gas central and being trampled by panicked citizens.))
LIVE ON FILM
[Andromeda pops in and out of the crowd -- literally -- trying to get the seriously injured back to the clinic, even if they're going to continue to freak the fuck out there.]
[The staff should -- hopefully -- be prepared. She's glad to see that other people are helping with evacuation, because she sure as hell can't handle everyone. She's already starting to slow down as the feed progresses, but that's never stopped her before.]
LIVE ON FILM
[Andromeda pops in and out of the crowd -- literally -- trying to get the seriously injured back to the clinic, even if they're going to continue to freak the fuck out there.]
[The staff should -- hopefully -- be prepared. She's glad to see that other people are helping with evacuation, because she sure as hell can't handle everyone. She's already starting to slow down as the feed progresses, but that's never stopped her before.]
LIVE ON FILM
[Not here]
BRB turning off everything that's cooking in the apartment before heading out at full speed to get to where his brother is flipping his shit, wrapping himself in as much protective magic as he can to make sure he doesn't get caught up in it too!]]
LIVE ON FILM
[Not here]
BRB turning off everything that's cooking in the apartment before heading out at full speed to get to where his brother is flipping his shit, wrapping himself in as much protective magic as he can to make sure he doesn't get caught up in it too!]]
LIVE ON FILM
LIVE ON FILM