(open) someday the flowers will wither

[bunnyhopped]

who: hana song and you!
what: did someone call for more memory share logs? + catchall for aftermath
when: october
where: various
warnings: violence

1 | CONSCRIPTION | first-person

[ It's all over the news— the latest simulations for the Korean army's new, recalibrated piloted mech units show that even the top air force pilots cannot produce the same results as the programming the previously unmanned drones had been equipped with. Headlines for every news site, both locally and internationally, all read similarly and much the same as Hana scrolls through sites on her phone: WHAT HOPE DOES SOUTH KOREA HAVE NOW?

There's a feeling of uneasiness at all of this, but it's not borne out of hopelessness. Rather, it's coming from a strong feeling that something big is about to happen. The army has been blowing through pilots ever since the colossal omnic permanently compromised MEKA's drone control networks. No one has been able to pilot the machines like there were no pilots inside to begin with. No one has the speed and reflexes—

That uneasiness rapidly melts away into that sinking, sinking feeling in her stomach that happens when one’s fears have become reality when she looks up and finds her father handing her an envelope addressed to 송하나 - Hana Song - from the Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army.

Carefully, she opens the envelope the unfolds its contents, casting uncertain glances up at her father as she does so. The look on his face is just as uneasy, creases on his face betraying his demure composure - it's the look on his face that she knows means he's worried. She doesn't have steel enough nerves to be able to read what the letter says in any coherent way, but her eyes zoom in on words enough that she knows what this is about - in fact, she's known what it would be about before she even opened the letter.

Aptitude. Skills required to operate Mobile Exo-force armored units. Pilot. Duty. Mandatory service. To her country. ]

Dad, I—

[ Her voice comes out shrunk and the rest of what might have been a sentence is swallowed in the quivering of her voice, and then by her dad's arms around her.

"I know. It's going to be alright, bunny. Everything is going to be alright. You're going to become the best pilot they've ever seen, I just know it. I’m so proud of you, Hana. So proud...”

In the silence that passes between father and daughter, the breaking, just-in news report airing on the television in the other room just confirms what they've been dreading: DESPERATE FOR RESULTS: MOBILE EXO-FORCE CALLS UPON TOP GAMERS FOR PILOTS ]

2 | UPRISING | third-person

Dad, I’m about to beat the gym leader! Look here!

[ —calls twelve-year-old Hana Song out to her father. Her request falls on deaf ears; her father is busy watching news pour in of the Omnic uprising in King’s Row, counts of casualties of human and omnic alike - where is Overwatch? Should they be deployed? - and what the Uprising could mean for omnics around the world.

”Not right now, bunny,” he says, and Hana sinks into her Pachimari plush with a pout, shifting her gaze back down to her handheld console. The sounds of her game are drowned out by news broadcasts of videos taken by people in London - screaming and raining gunfire and explosions - and then by the prime minister remaining steadfast in decision: they have the situation under control, and they will not be seeking outside help. They will not call for Overwatch. ]

That’s so dumb.

[ She doesn’t even bother looking up from her handheld. ]

If Overwatch is willing to help why doesn’t he just let them? That city’s getting wrecked just because he doesn’t want outside people helping. So stupid.

3 | DRONES | third-person

[ Hana is seventeen years old, the reigning Starcraft II champion in the world—

and she has no idea how much her life is going to change.

She’s lived through a few of the colossal omnic’s attacks, by now - but the story always ends the same. MEKA leads the way, and the omnic is defeated, but not destroyed. Victory is short-lived as the somber reminder that it’s still out there hits. That it will come back and it will be stronger than it was before. That the time spans between its attacks have been getting shorter and shorter over the years, to the point that the army has to rely on reading seismic activity to figure out when the omnic is on the move in the depths of the oceans. That the day that the decade-old strategy they’ve always used to fight against it finally gets beaten may be much closer than they all think, or believe.

Social media is the first to buzz about a new attack. Civilians and news agencies alike report that they have visual on the omnic - civilians within the coastal cities are to evacuate into shelters immediately - and MEKA is deploying. Hana feels relatively safe in Seoul - but everyone looks out for each other whenever one of these attacks happen. Several of her teammates on her pro team are from other cities, coastal cities included, and for their sakes she keeps her news feed fresh.

It’s not long before confusion strikes across any and all reports. MEKA drones are being spotted in cities further inland. In Seoul. There’s no word from MEKA and evacuations continue in the coastal cities as the colossal omnic approaches the shores. Hana is huddled with a few members of her team in their house, all watching tweets go by on one screen and messaging their families on another. Hana is on the phone with her parents, who live just outside the city. ]

I’m fine, you guys. Promise. We finished training for the day so we’re at the dorms. I know, we’re looking at the news, too. I don’t know what’s happening. But I’ll see you guys this weekend, okay? Love you.

[ Hana ends her call just in time for one of her teammates to scream.

”The drones are attacking!”

Sounds of explosions and gunfire that Hana is used to hearing through the speakers of her phone or headphones when she sees the news— suddenly sound very, very close. And so are the screams of people outside. Their team manager bursts into the room, yelling,

”Everyone get out of here! Get downstairs! Hurry! The city is under attack!”

They scramble to get out of the small room that they all usually sleep in - racing down stairs, several teammates crying out wondering what was happening and others already claiming that they were going to die. Whatever is happening, it hasn’t quite sunk in, in Hana’s mind, until another explosion shakes the building.

The drones are attacking. The same drones that had helped protect the country and all of them for all these years - they’re attacking. They’ve turned against the people they’re supposed to protect. They’re basically defenseless. They colossal omnic is going to beat them.

Everything feels like a blur and Hana feels - she doesn’t know how she feels. She’s confused. Anxious. Worried. Scared. She and her teammates are shuffled into a room in the basement of their building and from there, the explosions and gunfire and screams are muffled. It’s dark except for the light of everyone’s phones as they continue to keep track of what’s going on - and as they try to reach out to their families. Hana’s phone is buzzing with messages from fans from around the world, who’ve undoubtedly heard, themselves, what’s happened - and messages from her parents. She feels - numb. Like this must be some sort of horrible dream. This isn’t really happening. Her teammate is crying, now, and Hana puts her arms around the other girl in a gesture of comfort, but she feels nothing.

Am I going to die…? ]

4 | FAME | first person

[ Hana is greeted by cheers and nearly-blinding flashing lights as she steps out of an armored vehicle that has transported her from the MEKA headquarters to her new apartment building in the city of Busan. She’s escorted by soldiers in uniform and her manager, too, trying to act as a barrier between her and the crowds that have gathered at her residence. Hana, herself, is dressed in her army service uniform and heels click against the pavement as she tries to just - go home for the day. She’s tired, her arms and wrists are sore, but she can’t let any of that show. Instead she walks, smiling, waving at the press and at her fans putting what little energy she has left into looking okay.

”D.Va! Your first mission as a pilot was a huge success! Do you have anything to say about it?”

“You’re my hero, D.Va!”

“Please let me take a selfie with you!”

“Hey! Are you ever going to return to the pro gaming scene?”

“Miss Song— you’re fighting against real enemies now, not virtual ones. Aren’t you afraid?”

Hana stops in her tracks. The crowd falls silent as she does, only the sounds of camera shutters firing off fills the air. And she turns, slowly, to a camera - any camera, even if it isn’t the one for the reporter who’d asked if she’s afraid. Her courteous smile has subdued into something more cold and professional, a look that not even her opponents from her competitive days would see on her. ]

I’m not afraid. I’m going to fight with everything I have to defend our country and its people, and I know my fellow pilots are going to do the same.

[ Liar. She’s afraid. If you mess up in a video game, you get to restart from your last save point. Or you get revived and you get to keep going.

There are no extra lives in real life.

But she has to put her smile back on and raise a hand, flashing a victory sign at the camera— ]

So please keep on cheering us on, everybody! Thanks for the support!

[ —before she spins on her heel and finally, finally makes it into her door. ]

((ooc; new and existing cr alike are welcome! feel free to hit me up at camerata if you have any questions or wildcards to throw! ))

Comments

[bunnyhopped]

[ Hana tends to be open when it came to affection; she doesn't usually shirk away from gestures like hugs or anything, but that doesn't mean she openly asks for them, either. So she isn't offended or disappointed by Cisco's distance, and even if she doesn't consciously recognize it as him respecting her personal space she just - appreciates his presence either way. If someone has to intrude on her dreams and her memories like this, she's thankful that it's someone nice like Cisco. ]

I'm okay.

[ well, as okay as someone could be given the circumstances, anyway. ]

I don't know if I want to talk about it. You've figured out what happened, yeah?

[ at least there's that. She doesn't have to dive into the history of their war. Maybe not right now, at least.

At his offer, though, she does manage a little smile. Even if it's a bit of a bittersweet one. ]

This was probably one of the worst days of my life.

[franciscoramon]

Pretty much, yeah. Not the context, but- think I've got the gist.

[ He'd heard a little bit coming from the news reports, and there had been small things Hana had said in conversation - never anything direct, never anything that stood out as a red flag at the time. But enough that, looking back, he's starting to fill in some of those gaps. They'd had drones to protect the country, the drones had gotten hacked, and a lot of people in Seoul are dying right now, while Hana hides with her teammates, terrified and glued to her phone. She obviously will survive, but Cisco doesn't know if that's going to be the case for her family, for her friends, for her neighbors and the places she'd grown up loving.

Cisco scoots a little closer, sets a hand on Hana's shoulder, cautiously, watching to see if she flinches or pulls away: ]

We don't have to talk about it.

[ It almost hurts more, seeing her smile like that. Putting a brave face on it, when she's rewatching her whole world come crumbling down. Cisco knows she was something of a celebrity, in her own way, back in her world. He wonders how much of this she'd had to do in the aftermath; hiding her pain from the public, smiling when she didn't want to like everything was alright, making herself be strong despite it all. ]

I can see why.

[ There is an explosion close enough to the room that the walls rattle again, and sobbing from that first girl is joined by another, quieter but more hopeless. It's awful to hear, and Cisco bites at the inside of his cheek. He's too empathetic by half, but the last thing Hana needs right now is for him to get overemotional about all this. ]

[bunnyhopped]

[ Her hands tighten around her folded arms at the explosion; being in here, even as a spectator in a dream, feels much too much like living through this horrific day a second time. She doesn't flinch or pull away when Cisco comes closer, at least, though she finds herself looking down at the ground as he does so because - it's easier than looking at the her from two years ago. Easier than watching her teammates trying to keep it together, their manager trying to keep them together.

Still, the smile doesn't go away, practiced as ever. Because she has had to hide her pain from public, she has had to smile and look like everything was alright when it wasn't, she has had to steel herself and be strong for people who were losing hope. Because if she didn't... who else would? ]

You know, so much has happened since that day. It feels like it was forever ago even if it was only... two years ago? I think. I was seventeen.

[franciscoramon]

Two years can be a really, really long time.

[ When Hana doesn't flinch away from the touch, Cisco takes that as a sign that maybe she doesn't mind. So he sits a bit closer; close enough to drape his arm across her shoulders, giving her a half-hug as they sit there on the ground, so close to the chaos and confusion. It is surreal, being so near it all but knowing that it cannot touch them, and they cannot touch it. ]

I was a totally different person, two years ago.

[ Two years ago, they were nearing the completion of the particle accelerator explosion. Hartley had probably been fired a little over two years ago, which means Cisco would have been over the moon with happiness, confident that he knew what the future held, that S.T.A.R. Labs was on the brink of a great triumph. He'd been naive, and happy, and so much younger. ]

Maybe not a lot's changed on the outside, but... inside? Hardly even the same guy.

[ Cisco's trying to do too things, here - to distract her a little, if he can, from the immediacy of the bombs and the girls in the memory crying - and to offer his own story as a comfort that she's not entirely alone. Sure ,the situations are vastly different, but all the same. Seems like they've both had an eventful few years. ]

[bunnyhopped]

[ She leans a little bit into Cisco's half-hug without really thinking about it, a subconscious response to the consoling gesture. It helps, too, what he says - because he's right. The last two years had really been the longest in Hana's life, going from being a pro gamer reaching the peak in her career to an army pilot. Being drafted, basic training, her first combat ops, facing the colossal omnic once more... that all happened in the last two years. Hana isn't in the mindset to analyze herself, to think of all the ways that she has and hasn't changed - but the one thing she does know is that she is much, much more aware now of her own mortality. ]

I guess you're right.

[ And it certainly does help when he offers his own insight - when he basically tells her that she's not alone in feeling this way. Her head rests on his shoulder and she heaves a sigh. ]

Crazy how things happen like that, huh? But you know... Even if you changed a lot, I like the Cisco that I met now.

[franciscoramon]

[ It means a lot, to hear her say that - probably a lot more than she realizes. One of the things that has been most difficult for Cisco, since everything had started to go wrong with Dr. Wells, was thinking that he's the wrong version of himself, now. That there is a different Cisco he ought to still be: a less broken version of himself. He'd spent a long time pretending to be that Cisco, in denial, covering over all the hurt with bad jokes and paper-thin lies.

But since he's arrived here, in this place, he's stopped trying so hard to deny it. And it's good to know that someone like Hana, who never knew the old Cisco, still likes the new one well enough. ]

I like the Hana that I know now, too.

[ He watches as the lights in the room Hana and her teammates are hiding in flicker, then go out. The sounds of explosions from outside seem like they're growing a bit fainter, but Cisco can't be sure. He just keeps his arm around Hana's shoulders, sitting with her quietly as they ride out the memory. ]

[bunnyhopped]

...Thanks.

[ For Hana's part... she's still not sure to people knowing her as Hana. Most people at home knew her as the fearless, heroic D.Va - without bothering to think about the girl behind that persona. But she wasn't D.Va, here, at least not in the same way. She wasn't a hero and she didn't have an entire country's burden on her shoulders. People she met here met Hana. Hana, who—

isn't entirely sure what to do without D.Va.

The Hana within the memory starts as her phone lights up again, this time with another phone call - she's surprised that calls can come through even with everything going on, and even though she's in a basement. But she answers the phone and her voice shakes. ]

Dad?

[ The Hana beside Cisco curls up - but she forces herself to keep watching. ]

I'm hiding with the team. I know, I saw the news. Are you and mom okay? Are you safe? Good... good. Mmm. I love you, too—

[ And then her eyes go wide as the call ends abruptly, and she pulls her hand away to look down at her phone, telling her that her call with her father has ended. Present-Hana speaks up, ]

Don't worry. It was just the reception being choppy.

[ But Hana of the past didn't know that. In a situation like this, the first conclusion was that something must have happened to her parents. ]

Dad... mom... no...

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco rubs his hand across Hana's back; she is sitting so tense, curled around herself so tightly, that he tries to brace himself for the worst. That she might be hearing bad news - a home destroyed, a loved one killed, something of the sort. It's strange, the way it all feels so urgent, watching this, not knowing what will happen. And yet it is all also over and done with. Set in stone. Or, as the case may be, in memory. ]

Hana... I'm so sorry.

[ It's clear that the Hana in the memory is convinced of the worst, that she thinks her family has been hurt, and Cisco's heart is breaking, watching this. Bad enough for it to happen in the first place, but for Hana to be forced to relive it like this, it's just unfair. If only his powers were strong enough to just break through whatever it is causing these stupid dreams... ]

You know after we both wake up, we should do something fun.

[ Not that there's anything fun enough to salvage the next day, doubtless, after this. But Cisco can't just sit here, doing nothing. He has to provide some distraction, make some plan. A concrete action to help, because the past Hana is terrified and the present one doesn't seem to be faring all that much better. ]

[bunnyhopped]

[ It does give some measure of relief, to Hana, knowing how this ends, knowing that her parents made it out okay even if maybe not all of their belongings did. But those were replaceable. And Cisco's promise of something fun after waking up helps, too, if only to take her mind, even momentarily, off what was unfolding before her. ]

It's alright. I'm sorry you have to see all this. Maybe it'll be over soon.

[ Or maybe the part where, while past-Hana is in shock and trying to desperately connect a new call to her parents, the team manager throws a news feed onto a bigger holo screen for everyone to see what was happening in other parts of the country. With the MEKA drones compromised and turning on them, the colossal omnic essentially had free reign over Busan, raining destruction upon it with artillery, nothing but conventional military units standing in its way. Hana of the present looks up at the screen and says to Cisco, ]

Ah, that's the final boss they're showing. That's what the drones were originally built to fight against.

[franciscoramon]

[ He can't tear his eyes from what is happening, but Cisco's mind is working, trying to think of something fun but relatively low-key that he could offer as an activity after they're done. Cisco's woken up from these dreams at all sorts of hours - it could be 8 am or even 3 am, so it can't be anything that requires places to be open... ]

I was thinking pajama party. Fancy waffles, Fallout 4, and we can use treats to bribe Shadow to hang out with us. He's getting really big, you should see him. I think he hit some kind of kitty growth spurt.

[ Cisco falls silent, however, when the screen shows the omnic laying waste to a city. He just stares for a moment, Hana's words taking a moment to process. ]

What- what is that thing? Did somebody build that?!

[bunnyhopped]

[ Hana would have loved to respond to Cisco's idea - except that Fallout 4 is like, so vintage? At least the cat sounds super cute— but Hana takes a deep breath. She— isn't sure that she can really answer his question, and the look on her face as she turns to him speaks to that uncertainty, but she'll try as best she can. ]

It's an omnic. A long time ago this company created these robots for manufacturing but got shut down because it became a dirty business - but the manufacturing plants had self-improving programs and after they became self-aware they started mass producing military units and went to war. That thing—

[ she looks up at the screen again, ]

—was made by one of those.

[ Which omnium it came from, no one knows, although the Siberian Omnium makes the most sense just from proximity to Korea. Still, no one knows much about its history - it doesn't matter, anyway, or at least Hana thinks so. ]

We can't really beat it. Every time we do, it comes back stronger than before. [ "we," because it's that thing that she now has to fight as a MEKA pilot. ]

[franciscoramon]

Shit.

[ It's the kind of story that Cisco would think was awesome, if it were Terminator or some action movie like that. But it loses all appeal by being real - by being the backdrop and origin of all this fear and misery that Hana has lived through. Part of him wants to rage, ask what the hell those people were thinking, making self-improving machines, making machines that could be sentient. But then he thinks of Gideon, of JARVIS, and he stops before he says anything more. ]

Sounds like machines are a pretty big problem in your world, huh?

[ He wonders how that must inform her relationship with her mech; for Cisco, technology has almost always been a solution rather than a source of danger. Sure, sometimes things got misused. The particle accelerator, by Wells. His cold and heat guns, by the rogues. But it has never loomed over him quite so much as this omnic - and those brainwashed drones - must loom over Hana.

He frowns, hearing how defeated she sounds, saying they can never beat the omnics. Cisco can't help it; he immediately squeezes her a bit tighter and says, voice soft but full of conviction ]

Hey, c'mon. Look, Hana, I know I got no right, but... just because nobody's beaten it yet doesn't mean it can't be beaten. Humans are tough motherfuckers. I'm sure eventually, somebody's gonna have an idea so stupid and reckless that it hasn't come up before, and that crazy terrible idea is going to work, and you'll beat the omnics for good.

[ Cisco is the kind of optimist where it goes all the way down to his bones. No matter how many bad things happen, no matter how bleak things look, he's always going to have hope for a happy ending. ]

[bunnyhopped]

[ Well... The mechs are equipped with a self-destruct sequence. She's never mentioned it to Cisco, although he might know from having run maintenance on her mech. It's meant to be a last-resort measure, turning the mech into a flying, mini-atomic bomb, but...

She'd thought about it.

She can't bring it up, though, not when Cisco is trying his best to be optimistic. Hana usually is, too, that shining beacon of hope that's turned her into this strange mix of a celebrity and war hero but - it's hard, at a time like this, reminded of how much destruction she's seen in just nineteen years of her life, to feel good. She'll try, at least, for Cisco's sake. ]

... Yeah. [ She manages a small smile. ] I know we'll beat it someday. I'm not gonna lose to that thing. No way!

Thanks, Cisco.