Influx Log Community

Who: everyone!
What: A catastrophic event kicks off the first stabilization.
When: 9/26 evening to 9/28 evening
Where: Anchor and beyond
Warnings: Violence, most likely

The evening of the 26th day of the 9th month settles in as usual at first, the sunset bathing the whole city, just recovering from the earthquake and mostly intact again, in red and orange light. It's warm, still, and the rain that drizzled steadily in the morning is abated, leaving the air muggy and thick with dampness. Everything feels damp and still - there is a moment of peace in the waning of the sunset, the onset of twilight. It's dinnertime, one of the first decent dinners the occupants have probably had in some time.

And then there's a sound. Loud, dissonant, heavy enough to shake the ground, a resonant rumble. Then another, and another, they take on the pacing of footsteps, the footsteps of something large. Something large and disoriented, the steps uneven, speeding and slowing, abating and then quickening, over and over.

Anyone leaving their dorms to investigate the noise will see it before disaster strikes - a dinosaur, like a T-rex, huge and looming, casting a shadow from the dying light over half of the city. It roars, a loud, gurgling noise that leaves its throat in a tearing howl. Then it falls. Collapsing forward, it slams downward, crushing most of the upper stories of the city, slamming downward in an almost slow-motion, its head slamming into the park, it's body convulsing, another roar tearing out of it, spit gurgling and foaming in its mouth, wide open, razor-sharp teeth visible. It convulses a few more times, kicks helplessly, tearing a chunk out of the south wall of the city before it dies, a torrent of blood and foam spattering out of its mouth and into the pond.

For a moment after it's gone, all is still.

Then the sirens start, a constant wailing over and over, rhythmic, the sound of danger, like an air raid, and Command's voice rings out:

Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Compound defenses compromised! Danger! Evacuate immediately!

The message plays over and over for five steady minutes until:

Defense measures engaging in 5 - 4 - 3 -

The siren keeps wailing over and over and over, and there's a rumbling through all the walls of the city.

2 - 1 -

And then every door in the city slams shut, ironclad and incapable of being opened. Every door but the doors that people are still behind, which stay open until the person leaves the room and then slams shut.

The wailing sirens stop. All that's left is a trail of destruction through the jungle in the direction the dinosaur came from, a trail of destruction that may give a clue to what happened to cause this.

Security systems malfunctioning. Please manually override once danger has passed.

Who: open to all
What: Earthquake and Climate Change
When: 9/21; afternoon
Where: Everywhere.
Warnings: Violence by disaster.

It starts just before noon, with the storm outside the city swirling more darkly, more quickly, violent and angry, almost red in color, casting a dark pall over Anchor. Then there's the heat and humidity, the air heavy with it. There's a sense of impending doom hanging heavy along with the wet air.

An hour after noon it manifests, the storm rumbling outside and above and all around the city, lighting flashing in the sky and thunder rolling deep in the distance. The storm increases in severity quickly, and it isn't long before heavy raindrops stain the concrete walls, leaving everything wet and smelling of rain and heat. The lightning gets worse, thunder rolling through the sky, and after a particularly brutal burst of it, a thick bolt of electricity from the storm to the ground in the park at the center of the city, the ground starts to rumble.

At first it sounds almost distant, deep under the ground, but it moves upward, the vibration powerful, the ground rumbling, and as it moves up through the city, then the destruction begins. The walls begin to crumble at the bottom, the residential area half collapsing in on itself, and the destruction moves upward, the vibration powerful enough that it's next to impossible to stand. The walls crack, the entertainment levels half-collapsing, losing structural integrity - they look almost ready to fall in at the smallest added weight.

And the rain keeps pouring, even as the earthquake fades away, leaving only tremoring aftershocks to last the next week.