[ Walking through the city feels familiar in the way that places in dreams feel familiar when they actually aren't. It has all of the architecture of the city that Darlene knows and loves, the city where their revolution was born. But all of that steel, metal, and concrete that she was used to seeing has been replaced with winding vines and plant life sprouting from everywhere.
And not the kind of plant life that the City of New York planted to make things less dull and dreary -- to brighten up the city, as they called it. -- but real, natural foliage. The kind that only mother nature herself could manage.
Is this what the end of the world looks like? When their revolution is finished is this all that will be left? When things finally come crashing down, is this going to be all that remains when the dust clears? Darlene hadn't ever been motivated by the endgame of it all, FSociety and its work thrilled her in the moment and being the "ringleader" of it all gave her an adrenaline rush that she'd never felt before. Darlene lived for the steps that it took to get them there and the danger that that entailed -- even if that danger meant watching the Dark Army unload an entire clip of bullets into her boyfriend only a few short feet in front of her.
Now that she's made it to what she assumes is the end of it all it feels.... Anticlimactic.
The fire and chaos on the beach when she'd arrived felt more like what she'd expected. But she didn't stick around there for very long to see exactly how it panned out.
Hanging from a thin piece of elastic wrapped around her wrist is a mask, corny, gimmicky and looking like something found in the bottom of a bargain bin a week after Halloween. Except for every few moments, this mask speaks. Its voice an unsettling mixture of haunting and comical, a familiar voice to Darlene that sounds like it's been slightly warped for the sake of anonymity.
The mask doesn't offer much help. She keeps asking about Elliot -- if he's okay, if he's there, if it even knows who the hell she's talking about, but to no avail. All the daemon gives her is little quips about the places that she passes, suggestions that are meant to be helpful but do nothing more than leave Darlene bristling with obvious annoyance, and directions to a home that the stupid thing keeps claiming belongs to her. ]
Oh my God. [ Her fingers twitch with the need for a cigarette, she hadn't woken up today prepared for this kind of stress. ] If you're not going to help me, then how do I get you to shut up?
[ She yanks her arm up, looking at her daemon right in the two open holes it has for eyes, as though staring it down would work as a form of intimidation to a somewhat-inanimate object. ]
▷▷▷ DIR:\OnTheNetwork.txt
[ When the feed starts, there's nothing more than a 20-something year old girl with dark brown waves of hair and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of her head, keeping the tresses out of her face. She's regarding whatever the object she's speaking to with obvious skepticism. ]
So, what? I just start talking and you broadcast it to the world?
[ There's something nicely familiar about that. ]
That's right! Just like the good old days, ain't it? Maybe start off with something like "Hello, Evil Corp!"? For old times sake.
[ Fond memories, it's almost tempting A grin quirks at the very corner of her lips as she leans forward, inspecting her daemon at a much closer vantage point. Her mind too busy turning over with the idea of something else to pay any mind to the fact that it's already in 'broadcast it to the world' mode. ]
What are you running on, anyway? This looks like pretty sophisticated stuff, but no matter how advanced things are... [ Give Darlene Alderson the award for world's most dramatic eyeroll at the word advanced. ] I'm good at a lot of things, one of them happens to be staying one step ahead.
[ Sudden jarring movement, like a violent earthquake shaking the entire video frame for a good few moments. After a few curses and thoughtful hum's the camera stills, pointing directly at the floor between Darlene's feet, clad in clunky black boots that need to be tied before the feed abruptly ends. ]
▷▷▷ DIR:\Wildcard.exe
Anything you'd like! Throw it at me! Will match brackets or prose!
Darlene Alderson | Mr. Robot | OTA
[ Walking through the city feels familiar in the way that places in dreams feel familiar when they actually aren't. It has all of the architecture of the city that Darlene knows and loves, the city where their revolution was born. But all of that steel, metal, and concrete that she was used to seeing has been replaced with winding vines and plant life sprouting from everywhere.
And not the kind of plant life that the City of New York planted to make things less dull and dreary -- to brighten up the city, as they called it. -- but real, natural foliage. The kind that only mother nature herself could manage.
Is this what the end of the world looks like? When their revolution is finished is this all that will be left? When things finally come crashing down, is this going to be all that remains when the dust clears? Darlene hadn't ever been motivated by the endgame of it all, FSociety and its work thrilled her in the moment and being the "ringleader" of it all gave her an adrenaline rush that she'd never felt before. Darlene lived for the steps that it took to get them there and the danger that that entailed -- even if that danger meant watching the Dark Army unload an entire clip of bullets into her boyfriend only a few short feet in front of her.
Now that she's made it to what she assumes is the end of it all it feels.... Anticlimactic.
The fire and chaos on the beach when she'd arrived felt more like what she'd expected. But she didn't stick around there for very long to see exactly how it panned out.
Hanging from a thin piece of elastic wrapped around her wrist is a mask, corny, gimmicky and looking like something found in the bottom of a bargain bin a week after Halloween. Except for every few moments, this mask speaks. Its voice an unsettling mixture of haunting and comical, a familiar voice to Darlene that sounds like it's been slightly warped for the sake of anonymity.
The mask doesn't offer much help. She keeps asking about Elliot -- if he's okay, if he's there, if it even knows who the hell she's talking about, but to no avail. All the daemon gives her is little quips about the places that she passes, suggestions that are meant to be helpful but do nothing more than leave Darlene bristling with obvious annoyance, and directions to a home that the stupid thing keeps claiming belongs to her. ]
Oh my God. [ Her fingers twitch with the need for a cigarette, she hadn't woken up today prepared for this kind of stress. ] If you're not going to help me, then how do I get you to shut up?
[ She yanks her arm up, looking at her daemon right in the two open holes it has for eyes, as though staring it down would work as a form of intimidation to a somewhat-inanimate object. ]
[ When the feed starts, there's nothing more than a 20-something year old girl with dark brown waves of hair and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of her head, keeping the tresses out of her face. She's regarding whatever the object she's speaking to with obvious skepticism. ]
So, what? I just start talking and you broadcast it to the world?
[ There's something nicely familiar about that. ]
That's right! Just like the good old days, ain't it? Maybe start off with something like "Hello, Evil Corp!"? For old times sake.
[ Fond memories, it's almost tempting A grin quirks at the very corner of her lips as she leans forward, inspecting her daemon at a much closer vantage point. Her mind too busy turning over with the idea of something else to pay any mind to the fact that it's already in 'broadcast it to the world' mode. ]
What are you running on, anyway? This looks like pretty sophisticated stuff, but no matter how advanced things are... [ Give Darlene Alderson the award for world's most dramatic eyeroll at the word advanced. ] I'm good at a lot of things, one of them happens to be staying one step ahead.
[ Sudden jarring movement, like a violent earthquake shaking the entire video frame for a good few moments. After a few curses and thoughtful hum's the camera stills, pointing directly at the floor between Darlene's feet, clad in clunky black boots that need to be tied before the feed abruptly ends. ]
Anything you'd like! Throw it at me! Will match brackets or prose!