Anna Log/Dossier/Logs/LZ1-LOG - Revision history

Annalog at 14:31, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T14:31:15Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 14:31, 2 September 2026
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	<!-- BREADCRUMB: keep on one source line -->		<!-- BREADCRUMB: keep on one source line -->
	<div style="padding:7px 14px;line-height:1;background:#08070a;border:1px solid #3e2948;border-bottom:0;font-size:12px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.13em;color:#8f739d;">[[Anna Log\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">ANNA LOG</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> [[Anna Log/Dossier\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">DOSSIER</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> [[~~Anna~~ Log~~/Dossier/Logs~~\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">PLOT LOGS</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> <span style="color:#d893ef;">LZ1 B-SIDE #3 -02:30</span></div>		<div style="padding:7px 14px;line-height:1;background:#08070a;border:1px solid #3e2948;border-bottom:0;font-size:12px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.13em;color:#8f739d;">[[Anna Log\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">ANNA LOG</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> [[Anna Log/Dossier\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">DOSSIER</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> [[Plots#Plot Log Archive\|<span style="color:#b66bd5;">PLOT LOGS</span>]] <span style="color:#594363;">/</span> <span style="color:#d893ef;">LZ1 B-SIDE #3 -02:30</span></div>

	<!-- PLOT IDENTITY HMI -->		<!-- PLOT IDENTITY HMI -->

Annalog at 05:56, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T05:56:54Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:56, 2 September 2026
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	Hesper slides through party-goers, slipping like a cat through bars without slowing or pausing until she reaches the edge. She stops and turns around some thirty feet out and takes a look over everything, the dancers, the hangers-on at the edges too high to function, the few folks trying to help those who need it. With a shake of her head, she turns again, and walks off back towards Night City, and whatever awaits there.		Hesper slides through party-goers, slipping like a cat through bars without slowing or pausing until she reaches the edge. She stops and turns around some thirty feet out and takes a look over everything, the dancers, the hangers-on at the edges too high to function, the few folks trying to help those who need it. With a shake of her head, she turns again, and walks off back towards Night City, and whatever awaits there.

	<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-04.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna addressing the crowd with the stolen record]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 04 · THE ~~ASK~~</div></div>		<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-04.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna addressing the crowd with the stolen record]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 04 · GETTING THE LED OUT</div></div>

	The beat drops out from under the crowd like the floor just disappeared. For a second thirty people are just standing there in the sudden quiet, deer-eyed under the dead tilt-a-whirl with the bass still ringing in their chests. Anna doesn't let the silence sit long enough to get awkward. She breathes into the subdermal mic and her heart can be felt in her words, her hair throwing its little blue arcs slower now, matching the pace she's setting.		The beat drops out from under the crowd like the floor just disappeared. For a second thirty people are just standing there in the sudden quiet, deer-eyed under the dead tilt-a-whirl with the bass still ringing in their chests. Anna doesn't let the silence sit long enough to get awkward. She breathes into the subdermal mic and her heart can be felt in her words, her hair throwing its little blue arcs slower now, matching the pace she's setting.

Annalog at 05:01, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T05:01:53Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:01, 2 September 2026
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	<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">		<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">
	<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:0 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:~~LZ1~~-LOG-01.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna and Kole at the bar]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 01 · THE BAR</div></div>		<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:0 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ-LOG-01.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna and Kole at the bar]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 01 · THE BAR</div></div>

	The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.		The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.

Annalog at 04:36, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T04:36:21Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:36, 2 September 2026
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	<div style="font-size:24px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.10em;color:#c468ef;padding-bottom:10px;border-bottom:1px solid #74338e;">FULL LOG</div>		<div style="font-size:24px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.10em;color:#c468ef;padding-bottom:10px;border-bottom:1px solid #74338e;">FULL LOG</div>
	<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.		<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.

	<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">		<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">
	<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:0 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-01.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna and Kole at the bar]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 01 · THE BAR</div></div>		<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:0 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-01.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna and Kole at the bar]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 01 · THE BAR</div></div>

Annalog at 03:58, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T03:58:51Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 03:58, 2 September 2026
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	<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Anna_Log: Per the Typical tier: 20 IP / 400eb (merch sales) / 1,500eb gear value (the LP); pending staff confirmation of tier above. - '''30 Fans''', from the DV12 Charismatic Impact success (Making Fans against the ~30-person crowd, Rank 4), the real tracked Rockerboy resource!</div>		<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Anna_Log: Per the Typical tier: 20 IP / 400eb (merch sales) / 1,500eb gear value (the LP); pending staff confirmation of tier above. - '''30 Fans''', from the DV12 Charismatic Impact success (Making Fans against the ~30-person crowd, Rank 4), the real tracked Rockerboy resource!</div>
	<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Kole: Per the Typical tier: 25 IP / 400eb (Split the Merch Sale) Extra IP for his interaction with Muirgen, he did the right thing while Anna was missing what was happening to a fan? Attendee.</div>		<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Kole: Per the Typical tier: 25 IP / 400eb (Split the Merch Sale) Extra IP for his interaction with Muirgen, he did the right thing while Anna was missing what was happening to a fan? Attendee.</div>
	* Per the Typical tier: For the participants 20 IP / They absolutely showed up! Fun Night.
	<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">'''Muirgen · Nightshade · Hesper'''<br />20 IP each, per the Typical tier. They participated, they absolutely showed up, and it was a hella fun night.</div>		<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">'''Muirgen · Nightshade · Hesper'''<br />20 IP each, per the Typical tier. They participated, they absolutely showed up, and it was a hella fun night.</div>
	</div>		</div>

Annalog at 03:57, 2 September 2026

2026-09-02T03:57:15Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 03:57, 2 September 2026
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	<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Kole: Per the Typical tier: 25 IP / 400eb (Split the Merch Sale) Extra IP for his interaction with Muirgen, he did the right thing while Anna was missing what was happening to a fan? Attendee.</div>		<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">- Kole: Per the Typical tier: 25 IP / 400eb (Split the Merch Sale) Extra IP for his interaction with Muirgen, he did the right thing while Anna was missing what was happening to a fan? Attendee.</div>
	* Per the Typical tier: For the participants 20 IP / They absolutely showed up! Fun Night.		* Per the Typical tier: For the participants 20 IP / They absolutely showed up! Fun Night.
			<div style="margin-top:16px;max-width:1050px;font-size:16px;line-height:1.65;color:#dddddd;">'''Muirgen · Nightshade · Hesper'''<br />20 IP each, per the Typical tier. They participated, they absolutely showed up, and it was a hella fun night.</div>
	</div>		</div>
	\|-\|		\|-\|
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	<div style="font-size:24px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.10em;color:#c468ef;padding-bottom:10px;border-bottom:1px solid #74338e;">FULL LOG</div>		<div style="font-size:24px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.10em;color:#c468ef;padding-bottom:10px;border-bottom:1px solid #74338e;">FULL LOG</div>
	<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.		<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.
			<div style="margin-top:18px;max-width:1100px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;color:#dddddd;white-space:pre-wrap;">
			<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:0 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-01.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna and Kole at the bar]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 01 · THE BAR</div></div>

			The guy goes, "Ok, 700?" She flashes him the money and takes the satchel. He leaves and she watches and looks to the dude sitting there with her, "Sucker. Worth twice as much." She opens up the top flap of the courier bag and in it is a plastic case and inside that is a black and white album that looks to be from the 1960's maybe 70's.

	Kole watches the seller disappear before his attention drops to the open satchel. There had been the beginning of a knowing look on his face, the last pieces apparently having fallen neatly into place. Then he sees the plastic case. His brow furrows. The black and white album. He leans a little closer. The certainty evaporates. "...Is that a fucking record?" His eyes move from the vinyl, to Anna's pinprick pupils, then briefly to his own black bag before returning to her. A laugh escapes him as he realizes just how thoroughly he'd misread the entire exchange. "Okay. I had a completely different theory about what was happening here." He takes a drink, grin lingering behind the bottle. "So, what did you just steal for seven hundred eddies?"		Kole watches the seller disappear before his attention drops to the open satchel. There had been the beginning of a knowing look on his face, the last pieces apparently having fallen neatly into place. Then he sees the plastic case. His brow furrows. The black and white album. He leans a little closer. The certainty evaporates. "...Is that a fucking record?" His eyes move from the vinyl, to Anna's pinprick pupils, then briefly to his own black bag before returning to her. A laugh escapes him as he realizes just how thoroughly he'd misread the entire exchange. "Okay. I had a completely different theory about what was happening here." He takes a drink, grin lingering behind the bottle. "So, what did you just steal for seven hundred eddies?"
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	Kole moves the security container around gingerly with a finger and re-tunes his optics from macro to micro and the irises flare wide open like they were bringing in all the midnight neon they could, then they shrink, more, focus, and he can see the inner workings of the catch inside the bottom rail. He can see it just fine, but like he said, security systems aren't really his specialty. "Anna says, "What do you see?" She has good ears, but as far as eyeballs go it's all contacts.		Kole moves the security container around gingerly with a finger and re-tunes his optics from macro to micro and the irises flare wide open like they were bringing in all the midnight neon they could, then they shrink, more, focus, and he can see the inner workings of the catch inside the bottom rail. He can see it just fine, but like he said, security systems aren't really his specialty. "Anna says, "What do you see?" She has good ears, but as far as eyeballs go it's all contacts.

			<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-02.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=The sealed record and its tracker rail]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 02 · THE TRACKER</div></div>

	Kole keeps the container steady beneath one finger, head shifting by fractions as his optics work through another focal adjustment. "I can see the catch." His voice has lost some of its earlier joking tone, attention narrowing with his vision. "There's definitely electronics built into the bottom rail. Wiring, components..." He pauses, tracing what he can see without pretending to understand what he can't. "But nothing that jumps out at me as a reservoir, ampule, nozzle, or anything else I'd expect if it was designed to dose whoever opened it." The artificial irises constrict another degree. "So nerve gas moves down my list." For some reason that thought catches up with the bowl he just smoked, and a quiet laugh escapes him. "Fuck..." He tries to suppress it, which only makes it worse. "Could you imagine? We'd be so fucked..." He shakes his head, laughing again before rubbing a hand across his beard and dragging his attention back to the case. "Sorry. Apparently 'probably not nerve gas' is really fucking funny right now." His focus shifts along the catch again. "Good news for the evening. Bad news is I can see the damn thing just fine, but seeing a circuit and knowing what the circuit was designed to do are two different problems." He glances toward Anna. "If I had to guess? Tamper detection, alarm, maybe tracking. But that's a guess. I wouldn't bet your lungs or your record on it."		Kole keeps the container steady beneath one finger, head shifting by fractions as his optics work through another focal adjustment. "I can see the catch." His voice has lost some of its earlier joking tone, attention narrowing with his vision. "There's definitely electronics built into the bottom rail. Wiring, components..." He pauses, tracing what he can see without pretending to understand what he can't. "But nothing that jumps out at me as a reservoir, ampule, nozzle, or anything else I'd expect if it was designed to dose whoever opened it." The artificial irises constrict another degree. "So nerve gas moves down my list." For some reason that thought catches up with the bowl he just smoked, and a quiet laugh escapes him. "Fuck..." He tries to suppress it, which only makes it worse. "Could you imagine? We'd be so fucked..." He shakes his head, laughing again before rubbing a hand across his beard and dragging his attention back to the case. "Sorry. Apparently 'probably not nerve gas' is really fucking funny right now." His focus shifts along the catch again. "Good news for the evening. Bad news is I can see the damn thing just fine, but seeing a circuit and knowing what the circuit was designed to do are two different problems." He glances toward Anna. "If I had to guess? Tamper detection, alarm, maybe tracking. But that's a guess. I wouldn't bet your lungs or your record on it."
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	Kole steps out of the battered E450 van just as the music kicks up another notch. A generator rattles away beside it, feeding a frankly excessive collection of speakers while Anna works through the last of the setup. Maybe thirty people have already claimed the parking lot, some dancing, others clustered around cars, with more headlights periodically sweeping across the crowd as new arrivals pull in. Kole stands out somewhat from the developing rave: middle-aged, neatly bearded, pompadour mostly recovered from the rain, a weathered black medical bag hanging from one shoulder and enough visible chrome to suggest he didn't wander here accidentally. His eyes linger on Anna as she waves vaguely toward the crowd, then follow the gesture out toward the ravers. "Right. Just find a complete stranger with no chrome and convince them to do us a favor." A beat. He looks back at her. "Solid plan. Glad we thought this through." The faint grin beneath his beard takes some of the sting out of it before he starts into the crowd. His eyes move from person to person, artificial irises occasionally contracting into tight concentric apertures before opening again as he studies one raver, then another. Whatever he's looking for, he doesn't seem to have found it yet.		Kole steps out of the battered E450 van just as the music kicks up another notch. A generator rattles away beside it, feeding a frankly excessive collection of speakers while Anna works through the last of the setup. Maybe thirty people have already claimed the parking lot, some dancing, others clustered around cars, with more headlights periodically sweeping across the crowd as new arrivals pull in. Kole stands out somewhat from the developing rave: middle-aged, neatly bearded, pompadour mostly recovered from the rain, a weathered black medical bag hanging from one shoulder and enough visible chrome to suggest he didn't wander here accidentally. His eyes linger on Anna as she waves vaguely toward the crowd, then follow the gesture out toward the ravers. "Right. Just find a complete stranger with no chrome and convince them to do us a favor." A beat. He looks back at her. "Solid plan. Glad we thought this through." The faint grin beneath his beard takes some of the sting out of it before he starts into the crowd. His eyes move from person to person, artificial irises occasionally contracting into tight concentric apertures before opening again as he studies one raver, then another. Whatever he's looking for, he doesn't seem to have found it yet.

			<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-03.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Pop-up rave beneath the abandoned Tilt-A-Whirl]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 03 · THE POP-UP RAVE</div></div>

	The Tilt-A-Whirl skeleton over Rancho Coronado has been dead what ten years? Its carcass is bleeding rust down the spokes, weeds choking the ticket booth, but tonight the lot underneath it isn't empty. Cars nose in at odd angles along the chain link, headlights cutting off one by one as people spill out into the dark. Maybe thirty so far, more drifting in off the road in twos and threes, chooms in mesh and leather checking their agents for the quir code. It's an OPT-IN and some are, some ain't never done nothing like that, some have and still aren't sure. Those that opt in get synced onto a Social platform, "ANNA_LOG SOUND WITCH" That's her up at the turntables, the show hasn't started yet, just pre-recorded off one of her feeds. Feels like the pulse tonight is going to linger down that path of beat, pulse, spit, and violence.		The Tilt-A-Whirl skeleton over Rancho Coronado has been dead what ten years? Its carcass is bleeding rust down the spokes, weeds choking the ticket booth, but tonight the lot underneath it isn't empty. Cars nose in at odd angles along the chain link, headlights cutting off one by one as people spill out into the dark. Maybe thirty so far, more drifting in off the road in twos and threes, chooms in mesh and leather checking their agents for the quir code. It's an OPT-IN and some are, some ain't never done nothing like that, some have and still aren't sure. Those that opt in get synced onto a Social platform, "ANNA_LOG SOUND WITCH" That's her up at the turntables, the show hasn't started yet, just pre-recorded off one of her feeds. Feels like the pulse tonight is going to linger down that path of beat, pulse, spit, and violence.
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	''Hesper rolls Cool + Streetwise + 1d10: 7 + 2 + 6 - 4 = 11 (wound -4) vs 13 (Everyday) - Failure''		''Hesper rolls Cool + Streetwise + 1d10: 7 + 2 + 6 - 4 = 11 (wound -4) vs 13 (Everyday) - Failure''
			''ADMIN NOTE: Hesper had a known bug, the injury, which affected the die roll, but shouldn't have been there actual roll a 15 vs 13 (Everyday) - Success''

	The gal in the cowboy hat looks to the Latina and points a finger like one does when they feel like they have won, but know they got off without bleeding out. She takes two steps back as Hesper turns and walks away, and near carnage avoided.		The gal in the cowboy hat looks to the Latina and points a finger like one does when they feel like they have won, but know they got off without bleeding out. She takes two steps back as Hesper turns and walks away, and near carnage avoided.
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	Hesper slides through party-goers, slipping like a cat through bars without slowing or pausing until she reaches the edge. She stops and turns around some thirty feet out and takes a look over everything, the dancers, the hangers-on at the edges too high to function, the few folks trying to help those who need it. With a shake of her head, she turns again, and walks off back towards Night City, and whatever awaits there.		Hesper slides through party-goers, slipping like a cat through bars without slowing or pausing until she reaches the edge. She stops and turns around some thirty feet out and takes a look over everything, the dancers, the hangers-on at the edges too high to function, the few folks trying to help those who need it. With a shake of her head, she turns again, and walks off back towards Night City, and whatever awaits there.

			<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-04.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Anna addressing the crowd with the stolen record]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 04 · THE ASK</div></div>

	The beat drops out from under the crowd like the floor just disappeared. For a second thirty people are just standing there in the sudden quiet, deer-eyed under the dead tilt-a-whirl with the bass still ringing in their chests. Anna doesn't let the silence sit long enough to get awkward. She breathes into the subdermal mic and her heart can be felt in her words, her hair throwing its little blue arcs slower now, matching the pace she's setting.		The beat drops out from under the crowd like the floor just disappeared. For a second thirty people are just standing there in the sudden quiet, deer-eyed under the dead tilt-a-whirl with the bass still ringing in their chests. Anna doesn't let the silence sit long enough to get awkward. She breathes into the subdermal mic and her heart can be felt in her words, her hair throwing its little blue arcs slower now, matching the pace she's setting.
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	Muirgen chuckles. "Yeah. I'm fine. Listen to Zeppelin. I'll find a bench and get my bearings." She pats Kole's arm. "Thanks for looking out for me."		Muirgen chuckles. "Yeah. I'm fine. Listen to Zeppelin. I'll find a bench and get my bearings." She pats Kole's arm. "Thanks for looking out for me."

			<div style="width:100%;box-sizing:border-box;margin:30px 0 28px 0;padding:8px;background:#050407;border:1px solid #6f248f;text-align:center;line-height:1;">[[File:LZ1-LOG-05.png\|frameless\|1400px\|alt=Kole walking away from the rave]]<div style="padding:8px 4px 2px;color:#8e6d9d;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:0.14em;">IMAGE 05 · WALK-OFF</div></div>

	Kole gives Muirgen another quick look over, apparently satisfied with the improvement. "Any time." He gives a small nod toward the edge of the lot. "Bench sounds like a good idea. Take it easy for a few minutes." At the pat to his arm, a faint smile crosses his face. "And maybe don't opt into any more mysterious brain feeds tonight." He waits long enough to make sure Muirgen is steady on her feet, then flashes her a grin. "Read the fine print. Don't trust sketchy QR codes." With that, he turns and slips away from the edge of the party, leaving the pounding music and dead Tilt-A-Whirl behind him as he heads out into the night.</div>		Kole gives Muirgen another quick look over, apparently satisfied with the improvement. "Any time." He gives a small nod toward the edge of the lot. "Bench sounds like a good idea. Take it easy for a few minutes." At the pat to his arm, a faint smile crosses his face. "And maybe don't opt into any more mysterious brain feeds tonight." He waits long enough to make sure Muirgen is steady on her feet, then flashes her a grin. "Read the fine print. Don't trust sketchy QR codes." With that, he turns and slips away from the edge of the party, leaving the pounding music and dead Tilt-A-Whirl behind him as he heads out into the night.</div>

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2026-09-02T03:46:25Z

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