Elevator: A Character Roleplay (IC)

[The New World Oceania]

Rockefeller Plaza Elevator Incident

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Rockefeller Plaza Elevator Incident

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Victims O'Driscoll, Walker,
Depleur, Steig, and Wolf
prior to the incident.

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Location: New York City;
Upper East Side;
GE Building

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Date: Tuesday, February 12, 2013
9:14 am Feb. 12 — 11:11 am Feb. 14 (UTC-4)

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Attack Types: Elevator hijacking
Suicide bombing
Psychological warfare
Terrorism

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Deaths: [citation needed]

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Non-Fatal Injuries: [citation needed]

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Perpetrator: [citation needed]

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The Rockefeller Plaza Elevator Incident, sometimes called the 50 Hours Attack, was a terrorist attack launched by [REDACTED], a [citation needed] upon the GE Building on Manhattan's Upper East Side on Tuesday, February 12 to Thursday, February 14, 2013. The attacks killed [citation needed] people and cost at least $6.5 million in property and infrastructure damage.

Present in the elevator were Steven Alexander McGanigan, 42, Rory O'Driscoll, 15, Tom Walker, 27, Scott Depleur, 42, Edward Taylor, 22, Knox Johanneson Stanforth, 14, Johanna Stieg, 28, Bob Dickson, 25, Charlotte Wolf, 29, and Anna bint Bahiyya, 29. At 9:14 am on the morning of February 12th, 2013, one of the 40 central core elevators was caught between the fortieth and forty-first floors. Due to the violent shaking of the elevator, technicians immediately severed power to the stuck elevator and all surrounding it.

Within moments of arriving, the fire department was alerted that a bomb had been placed near the elevator and would explode within 76 hours if the individual responsible for it was not killed within the allotted time. Due to the decision by technicians to cut power to the central core, law enforcement was unable to reach the stranded individuals. The individuals e͉̘̩̦͎͓̻͈̟̖͢͝͞͠ͅͅv̳̠͕͎͉̙̥̗̀͘͡e̴̞̬͍͈͚̮̤̕͢ń͎̺̺͠t̸̸̛͉̱̜̲̰̼̥̹̼̙̰͕̳͇͙̕͜ư̶̛̦̭͔̙̦̲͚͉̬͔̼̘͚̠̯̫͠a̜̯̬̲̝̻̰̥̯͍͇͚̕͟͜͡ͅͅļ̴̷̭͚͇͉̭͔̫͔̗̼̞̰̟̻̞͉͟͝ļ̵̬̰̻̻̙̻̺̖̗̱̲̺͉͇͎̤͓ỳ̵̢͈̩̙̗̖̖̙̦̀ ̙͖̙̳̩̤̣̟̹̙̤̼̪͙́̕̕ŕ̵̡̢̟͔̰̥̗̥͙̕é̸̢̳̳̖̝͚͚s̛͇̩͖̘̹̹̭͓̮̖͘ͅơ̷̡͏̢̝͎͈̲̰͖̟̘̺͈̠̰̬ͅr̵͢͠͏̖̪͇̥̩̫̦̼͎̬̙̠̻ͅţ̠͖̭e̸̡͇̺̠͇͉̗̼͉͈͘d̛͏̬̥͎̥̱͖̫͖̥̳͙ ̨̛͙̗̬̤̼̥͙͕͖̩̻͞ͅt̡͜͝҉̦̫̥̦͚͓̜̪̪͖̙̥̦̝o belil͗͆ͯͬͯ̊̓̒ͬ̀͢î͌̐ͩ͋͗͑͊͟e̡͊͒͗͑̈͒́͟l̶̵̡ͬͮ̚o̵͑͒̑ͬ͛͗̈́͟eͨͫv̛ͫ͗͢e̶̊̐̚d̡̐̍̽ͫ̔ͤͮ̿ͯ ͥ̒̈̍ͬ̂̃̉͌͘t̨̓̎̈́̿̽̉ͭh̵͊͐a̶ͯͫ҉t̅ͯ̎̽ͦͬ҉ ̅ͩͩͮͣ́r̨̄̈ͫͬ͐ͯ͝ȅ̵̎͝s̢̓̇ͯ̒̃p̵̴̨͂ͭͭ̔͋ͩͦo̡͒̑͗̂̀͢n̷͗̈͂̋ͯͩ̉҉͟s̎̈́̓̆̈̅̀̚̕͞iͯͫb͑l̾̂̾ͫ͝ęͮ̈́̇̑͛ ̷́̾̐̓̏̅͞ŵ̡̨̈̾͆̄̽͌̋ͧ̕ ͪ̄̇̂ͦ̊̈w̉͌aͬ̉̏̈́̈̒͋s̵ͪͦ̌ͧ̎̉

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8:46 am, February 12, 2013

Who defines terrorists? Today's terrorist is tomorrow's friend.

Al Sharpton

[Aelford]

Alright then. In character? Who's gonna start?

[Saestea]

Knox Stanforth

A well-dressed man poked his head out into the corridor of the GE Building's 65th Floor, looking about. Upon seeing who he was looking for, he stepped into the hallway and headed in the person's direction, avoiding a lady with a stack of fillers in her arms.
It was a teenaged boy, engrossed in the story he was reading on his tablet computer. He wore a pair of earphones as he read his story, which made the man place his hands on his hips and frown.

"How can you read and be listening to music all at the same time, Knox?" he asked, causing the boy to jump off his seat and tear the earphones away from his head. He smiled nervously as he looked up.

"Ummm... I wasn't listening to anything..." he lied, wrapping the device around his finger and pushing it into his left pocket. The man continued frowning, but giggled after a moment and knelt down to give the kid a hug. He was his son, after all. The boy couldn't help but chuckle himself, recognizing his father's playful manner of discipline. It was effective, though funny.

"So, what're you here for? Cassie told me you wanted to see me?" the man then asked, getting back up as Knox knelt down to return the tablet back into his checkered backpack. He spoke only after the zipper on the pack was firmly against the other end that made it close.

"Well, there's this new book out... And I'd like to read it. The problem is, dad... I spent all my allowance on last week's Chemistry Project. Could I have some money to buy it?" explained Knox, making small gestures to emphasize how much he wanted the book and how irritated he was that his allowance went to waste on a project that didn't even have a big enough effect on his overall Chemistry marks.

Knox's father sighed and shrugged. This was perfectly normal. At least his son wasn't like Rob, his co-worker's son, who quite frequently asked for video games to play on his Xbox and his Playstation. He reached into his back pocket and brought out a stuffed black leather wallet. Knox loosened up slightly to know that his father was willing to help with the book. As he opened his wallet, looking for bills, dad asked, "How much d'you need then?"

"7.99, dad." replied Knox, clasping his hands together behind his back. He really wasn't too eager. If his dad said no, then that was it. No meant no. But that's not saying he could get it later on. His father liked that he preferred books over games, after all. Though the laptop was a problem. He spent too much time reading and writing on it than was needed. Anyway, dad handed Knox the amount he needed and ruffled his hair.

"Go on now, I've still got work to do until this evening. Tell mom for me, will you?" he said, grinning, as he turned back to his office where a young woman, Cassie, now stood. She had a phone in her hand.

Knox only nodded and pocketed the money, waiting first for his dad to get back to the office before he left. Once the door closed, he turned around and started walking. He headed out of the lawfirm's office area and into the outer corridors, where he hastily chose an elevator. As he waited, he flipped his bangs and took his earphones out again, connecting them to his old, old, inefficient iPod. It still worked, so why not keep with using it? Just as a pop-electronica song started playing, the elevator doors opened, and the teen stepped inside...

[Jessjohnesik]

Johanna Stieg

Reading a newly published scientific paper about life on Europa on her iPad, Johanna cared little about what was happening around her. Her biggest concern so far would be not to bump into another person as her attention was concentrated on the tablet's screen. She avoided the problem by not abstracting from reality and keeping her tablet in such a way that her peripheral vision would be able to see passing by humans. Johanna understood however that she can't drown herself in the paper as she still has a meeting to attend and that she had to register at the reception. Her reading something on a tablet while talking to the receptionist would be plain rude.

In a matter of almost seconds, in reality more than a minute, Johanna had found her way into the building. She would proceed to put away her iPad, after which she was already observing the interior and searching for the reception desk. Her tall stature of 1.77 metres put her at a somewhat advantageous point of observation. Fixing her glasses and putting away her light brown hair with purple highlights behind her ear, Johanna continued to the reception desk, her light green eyes fixed in its direction. She was dressed very formally, wearing an elegant suit and black pants, as well as low platform formal Ecco shoes. Her expression was completely devoid of all emotion, so much that one wouldn't even quite understand that the expression lacks emotion, as that would be somewhat an expression as well.

A slight, just friendly enough, smile would crawl over Johanna's face as she would start speaking with the receptionist, so as to not be rude or appear as an emotionless serial killer.

"Johanna Stieg. I'm here for a meeting. I believe the rest of the information is noted somewhere." She stated to the receptionist, a Hispanic woman in her mid thirties, who nodded in agreement and said some words.

Just as she reached the elevator and pressed the button, her phone rang, the caller appearing to be as one of her German colleagues, Dorothea Shröder.

"Ja?" Johanna asked as she promptly answered the call, stepping aside so as to not prevent other people from standing near the elevator.

[Krytonus]

Rory O'Driscoll

God, it was cold today. I had been hoping that the temperature would have been going back up again now that it was (technically) Spring, but it was still freezing cold. Even back in Ireland it would be warming up. My breath billowed out in front of me as I made my way down the crowded street. According to the weather guy, it was going to get warmer later today, so obviously I hadn't brought my jacket or my hat or anything remotely helpful, and by the time I was leaving the building it was too late to go back. Still, it was better than School. I rubbed my hands together, in the hopes of preventing frostbite. I was lucky I lived so close to the GE Building, just a few blocks away. It was also pretty lucky I had not slept through my alarm. I needed this job experience. With me in my backpack I had my laptop, contained in it all of my work and reports and whatever I felt would be useful. I also had the recommendation from my English teacher and my written application, detailing why I should get the job, as well as my somewhat beaten Nintendo 3DS. The XL model, naturally. I didn't know how long I'd be waiting, if I even had to wait.

I stopped along the way for a hot-dog (amazing how early the vendors start selling) and was now just a block away. I hadn't had time for breakfast, so I quickly demolished the hot-dog, not a single onion escaping my hunger. I tossed the napkins into a bin-
You live in New York, it's a trash can now.
-trash can and pulled on my headphones, setting my old iPhone to shuffle. My ears were suddenly greeted by Highway to Hell, blaring out on full volume. I let out a sort of mix between a yelp and a whimper, and desperately fumbled around my pocket to turn it down. I let out a relieved sigh as the music dropped to a bearable level. I let out a quick "Sorry" to the businessman I had almost crashed into, pulled my hood up and checked my digital watch.
8:56.
The interview wasn't until twenty-past, but I wanted to make sure I got there fast. I pulled up my hood, plunged my hands in my pocket and picked up the pace.

[Neo-Chicago]

Tom Walker

Tom parked a block or two away from the GE Building, which was actually pretty good considering it was around rush hour. Popping the trunk, he retrieved his briefcase from it. There wasn't really a reason to have it; just force of habit, really. He slammed the trunk down, and locked the doors to his Mustang. It didn't take long for him to walk to the building, and he supposed he had about twenty or so minutes before they would be expecting him on the 55th floor. Walker approached the desk, which was an unnecessary movement, considering the receptionist was so apathetic she didn't even spare him a glance. "Yeah, just go up, Mr. Walker. They're expecting you." she said to him.
Attempting to push up his glasses for a moment, he laughed and stopped himself. Well, old habits die hard, I suppose. Still getting used to these contacts. he thought to himself. For a moment, Tom was unable to find any way upstairs, until he arrived at the area of the stairs and elevators. He considered taking the stairs for a moment, but thought better of it. Tom was all for exercise, but fifty-five stories seemed a bit much. So, he decided on the elevator, although he never really liked elevators. Ever since he was a kid, Tom always had a subconscious fear that was to the effect of What if this thing just stops? Oh god, what if I suffocate in here?, although he wasn't even claustrophobic. He stood and waited for the elevator, which he felt was taking an annoying amount of time. Running a comb through his hair, he tapped his foot impatiently. "Finally." he said as it arrived. Tom was pleasantly surprised to find it somewhat empty. Then again, empty takes on an entirely new meaning when you're used to taking a courtroom elevator most of the time. He straightened his tie, and stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind him...

[New Jordslag]

Walking down the hallway of the 65th floor of the GE building, Taylor pretended to pay attention to the hallway, while secretly talking to his Father on his Phone. His Father had always been old-fashioned; He wanted Taylor to follow exactly in his footsteps. After Taylor refused and instead took a Tech course in College, he and his Father had stopped talking for a while. Finally, just as he was about to take the job, his father gave up. He still didn't fully accept that his son wanted a job involving Computers, but at least he would talk to him now.

He spotted an Elevator. Deciding to not walk up the stairs anymore, he ended the call and put away his Phone and started walking to it. After stepping inside and pressing a button, and glancing at the three or four other people in the elevator, he flashed back to a scene with one of his siblings, from the past: 'Taylor walked along the sidewalk, 11, with his 7 year old little sister. They were out walking one of their Father's many dogs. His sister spotted an ice Cream stand and begged Taylor to buy her some Ice Cream from it. Reluctantly, he did, with his own pocket money. He had always doted on his little sister. "Thanks Big Brother!" His little sister said, then skipped across the street without him. A second later, a Truck rolled over her, and she was gone.' He shuddered at the memory.

'If only I hadn't bought her that Ice Cream,' He thought, feeling bad about what he did, 'She wouldn't be gone, and I wouldn't be alone in the family.' Then, trying to escape that inescapable memory, Taylor started playing a video game on his Phone.

[Aelford]

Bob Dickson

Bob came out of the toilet, giving a sigh of relief. The massive sized Mango Smoothie from his Lunch filled his bladder to the brim, and he spent 10 agonising minutes looking for the toilet. Surprisingly, there weren't any around, even in the restaurant, but he found one in the Rockefeller Plaza and used it. While in the toilet, waiting for his dump to arrive, he whipped out his phone and texted his buddy at University.

"hey man, I'm at Rockefeller Plaza. Whats to do there?"
"oh thats cool man. what you mean? "
"like entertainment? views or something?"
"oh yeah. Maybe check out the view on top or something. Take a photo for me. k？"
“haha. all you want are pictures from rooftops. lol"
"well, come on! Im a photographer. what u expect?"
"oh alright. i'll be back tomorrow."
"oh cool. c u tmr then"
"yeah bye"

Bob quit his Texting App and took a look at the Battery Indicator. It read "0%". "What the hell?" Bob thought. He activated sleep mode, shook it and when nothing happened whacked it. Then it read a normal percentage of 78%. "Damn, I got to get the phone fixed." he thought. He put the phone away and walked out of the cubicle.

He decided to go to the top of Rockefeller Plaza, to look at the view and perhaps take a photo or two for his buddy. He walked out and spotted the elevators, rushing in just in time as they were about to close. "Sorry!"he said to the people inside.

[The Almighty Bob]

Steven Alexander McGanigan

A man in a clean suit and dark blue tie walked down the hall impatiently. He was on his way to a job interview and he was already late. He'd had the wrong floor, so now he had to go back down. He sprinted over to an elevator that was about to close,briefcase trailing behind him, and said "Hold the door, please!" Someone stuck out their arm and he jumped in. "Whew. Thanks." He looked around at the various people within.

[Krytonus]

Rory O'Driscoll

I pull down my hood and slip off my headphones as I enter the lobby. I guess it's nice, pretty standard in terms of lobbies. Potted plants, modern art and a slightly-faded carpet. An elevator is just closing.
Shit.
"Wait!" I shout, dashing across the lobby. I manage to slip my hand between the doors, opening the doors fully and allowing me in. I push the button for floor Forty-two, slip in my headphones and lean back, sighing. Today would be a good day.
I will get that job.

[Cylarn]

Lieutenant-Colonel Scott Depleur

A black Escalade pulled up to the front of the GE Building, with the right side rear passenger door opening to reveal Army officer Scott Depleur emerging from the vehicle. A black trenchcoat with one silver oak leaf on each of his shoulder epaulettes concealed a well-decorated service uniform, and he wore a black beret on his head, emblazoned with a blue shield that contained yet another oak leaf in the center. In his left hand, he carried a black briefcase as he swiftly strode towards the building. The 20-year veteran was en route to an important meeting at the GE Building, involving a conference between various government officials, defense contractors, and other diplomats who would be discussing the planning and logistics of an operation involving the usage of private military contractors in support of a sensitive operation in eastern Afghanistan. Previously an infantry Battalion Commander, Scott had been appointed as the S3 (Operations Officer) for a certain Colonel Stewart Hagan, who was the Army's representative for the meeting, as well as the commander of the force that would be launching the operation. Scott was late, partly due to his flight from Burlington, Vermont becoming delayed by inclement weather.

On the outside, the officer appeared calm, though rage was boiling inside of him. Army officers were never late, and in his 20 years of service to the US Army, he had never once been late to a formation, briefing, or other important engagement. He had literally killed for his country, he had commanded men in combat numerous times before, and he bled on several occasions for the US; he guessed that being late to the meeting would be his downfall, of all things. The Army was changing, and they were looking for any excuse to clean house, regardless of who fucked up and why. Even if he wasn't fired, the Army had its ways of pressuring him into early retirement. A letter from Colonel Hagan could thank him for his exemplary service and offer him the Legion of Merit before concluding with a request for a resignation from his commission, or the brass could maneuver promotion billets and promotion factors in such a way that Scott would be doomed to remain as a Lieutenant-Colonel for the remainder of his career. Many would be confused by this, unless they saw what was in the briefcase.

He entered the building, and appreciated the change in temperature as he removed his beret, sticking it in his coat pocket. Although NYC wasn't as bitterly cold as Jericho, cold was still cold, and he preferred heated spaces over the blistering cold. He approached the reception desk, while simultaneously removing his trench coat and tucking it under his left arm, showing off the impressive rack of ribbons, badges, and other decorations that he had received. He smiled at the rather cute Hispanic lady working the desk, and began to speak.

"Scott Depleur," he said. "I'm here for the Individual Ascertation Committee Meeting (the government enjoyed disguising important conferences with vague names)."

The receptionist took a moment, looking through the attendee list for the meeting. She then looked towards the black nametag on Scott's uniform and gave a nod.

"Colonel Depleur, you're on the list," the receptionist said, speaking with a dialect that Scott determined to originate from Colombia. "Colonel Hagan has been calling the desk, asking if you had shown up. I will call him and let him know."

"That would be best, ma'am," Scott said in response.

"Have a good day, Colonel," she said, giving Scott a parting smile as he moved towards the elevator.

As he moved towards the elevators, the only available one was closing its doors. Scott wasn't going to be any more late than he already was, so he utilized his surprising finesse and bolted forward through the crowd of businessmen. Within a second or two, the denizens of the elevator would see the closing of the door interrupted by a black-sleeved arm coming between the closing doors. Scott grunted a bit as the doors squeezed his wedged arm, and he immediately dropped his briefcase and trenchcoat, throwing his left arm into the mix. With both hands at play, he began to force the doors open, up until they complied with the man and fully opened. He took a moment to straight his uniform and give a smirk to his fellow passengers, and he proceeded to pick up his items before entering the elevator. Scott pressed the button for the 50th Floor, and moved towards the back of the space.

"Good morning, folks," he said to his fellow passengers.

[The New World Oceania]

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9:09 am, February 12, 2013

Every terrorist regime in the world uses isolation to break people's spirits.

Bell Hooks

[Jessjohnesik]

Johanna had eventually stepped into the elevator once it arrived, still on the phone. Subconsciously, she had somewhat anti socially placed herself in the elevator's corner, while also saying little over the line, her colleague supporting almost the entirely of the conversation up to this point. For some reason, her phone was loosing signal, which seemed relatively odd to have started happening in the elevator of a modern building. Or at least, that's what she thought.

"Dorothea, ich kann Sie nicht hören. Wir werden später darüber reden. Johanna said in response to the weaker signal, in a somewhat quiet voice. She did so to avoid getting glances from the Americans, who obviously didn't know German. Stieg generally wasn't fond of attention in most cases, but would ignore any should it exist.

With that, Shröder promptly ended the call and Johanna put her smartphone away, instead taking out the iPad and continuing to read the scientific paper, the subject of which has greatly interested Stieg over the las couple of weeks, starting with her intensified research into the subject and meeting with ESA scientists.

[Neo-Chicago]

Tom had been rapidly pushing the door close button when yet another person entered. The teenager had put his hand in so close to the closing for a second Tom thought that the hand was going to be mutilated. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and the boy shoved his way in front of Tom, clicking the floor 42 button. What an annoying move. At least I don't have to go below that floor. Right before the teen had shoved his way inside, some other guy had walked in. Walker had wanted to tear the glasses off of that smug asshole's face. What an annoying move. At least I don't have to go below that floor. Tom thought to himself, his mind going back to the teen. He remembered that hating other people would get you nowhere in life, and Tom decided to get rid of his existing prejudices, as well as deciding against making a sarcastic comment to the teenager. To his surpise, however ANOTHER person shoved their hand in the door, and that was about his breaking point. "Seriously?!? Just let us leave already, I have to get somewhere. I swear to god, if one more person shoves their way in here, I am going to literally tear their head off!" he bellowed.
He was now hyperventilating, and examined the funny looks the other seven or eight people in the elevator were giving him. "Sorry." he said sheepishly, and he slouched again the elevator wall. Tom just wished these people would show common courtesy, like the man who had asked for one of them to hold the door. He pulled out his Android phone, which showed 87 percent battery life left. He turned it off, since he had left the charger at home. The teen pressed the 42 button once more, and Tom just wanted this elevator ride to be over. He looked up above the doors, and saw the numbers going up. 29, 30, 31, 32, 33... Just get their already! ...34, 35, 36, 37... At this point Tom felt as though he might even have a nervous breakdown, possibly some sort of panic attack. ...38, 39, 40-. Suddenly, a large metal thunk reverberated through the elevator car, followed by the elevator completely stopping. "It's fine, it's fine... this happens often, it'll probably be back on in a second." he said to the others in the elevator, although he felt as though he was saying it to calm himself more than others. And that's when the lights went out.

[Krytonus]

Rory O'Driscoll

I say nothing as I stand in one corner and that ridiculous man rants about those entering the elevator. I just preoccupy myself by playing on my phone. my battered old iPhone 4 slowly loading Angry Birds. I try to ignore the other passengers, especially that angry one, who was now hyperventilating.
At least I won't be here long.
I let out a sigh and lean back against the wall of the elevator, focusing on completing the level I'm about to obliterate the last pesky pig when there's was a worrying clunk as the elevator shudders to a stop. Angry starts spurting some worried nonsense that I don't hear and I turn to press the call button, but suddenly the light flicks out and we're left stuck in the darkness.
"Well, this is annoying." I remark as I flick on my phone's torch. I press the help button a few times, worrying pricking in my mind.
I can't miss that interview.
"We'll be fine. Longest we'll be in here, probably about twenty minutes. Worst comes to worst, they can open the doors and we get out between floors. No problemo."
I say to try and comfort the guy from before. I hope he's not claustrophobic.

[Saestea]

Knox Stanforth

The elevator Knox was in started to head down, but he'd forgotten to get off on the ground floor. It was stupid, yeah. All because of the damn earphones and the loud music. So the boy took his earphones off for the last time and stowed them away in his bag. As he was closing the zipper on his backpack there was some really angry person on one corner of the elevator, though he apologized after his outburst. Since he was a nice kid anyway, Knox shrugged it off and stood back up. He sighed softly and leaned against the wall behind him. And that's when the elevator stopped, and the lights flickered out. Knox stood back up straight, startled. His eyes were glued to the ceiling as he silently urged the elevator to start moving again.

Then seconds passed, and the elevator car didn't budge even an inch. Knox bit his lip as tears began to form in his eyes. It was dark, tight, and very quiet. This had never happened to him before in other elevators. This is really the first time. But it's alright. The assuring words that the other people said were ineffective on Knox. He bit back more tears as he once again leaned against the elevator walls and clutched the straps on his pack tighter than he had ever done in his life. What was going on, anyway? Maybe the elevator was overloaded? But no one would be able to get off now that the doors were shut and there was no power. What if the cable that held the elevator up snapped? Slowly, Knox squirmed out of his pack's straps and took his phone out. He'd be ready to dial a number if it was needed. But he kept it off until the time came.

[Jessjohnesik]

Johanna was just a startled by the sudden stop as the others. Her eyes were also somewhat strained by the unanticipated absence of light. She didn't panic however, Johanna well understood that the cables couldn't just 'snap'. The modern design of the elevators made them highly safe for their occupants. The chances of dying in such situation were too low for Stieg to seriously consider them. Which is why instead of letting fear plague her consciousness, Johanna took out her iPad and shined it in the elevator, with the maximum brightness. Although this had little practical use, Johanna thought this would make the situation somewhat better, somehow.

In the light, Johanna quickly observed the other passengers, to see if any could've somehow gotten hurt. Not that she cared too much, but rather out of basic societal principles and rules. In any case, the light would have to be turned on soon, if not immediately.

"I hope the technicians and whatnot understand that some of us don't quite want to be late." Johanna said out loud in a calm tone.

[Neo-Chicago]

One of the other passengers was shining a light right in his face, but Tom thought better than to yell at her about it or something. After all, if he was going to be stuck in an elevator with these people, it didn't seem like a good idea to get on any of their bad sides. Well, at least not immediately, anyway. Tom was really becoming scared at this point. "You know, I saw a video where some guy got stuck in an express elevator that only went to the bottom floor and some of the top floors. These type of elevators usually have security cameras." he rationed. Tom looked around the upper corners of the elevators, and just assumed that the camera was really well hidden. He waved his arms around, and yelled "Hey! Is anybody listening to this? Can anyone see us?". When no response came, Tom assumed that it was either no use, or this elevator had no intercom. He sank to the elevator floor, and began to bang his head against the elevator wall.
At that point, Tom realized what one of the other passengers had said, about getting out between floors. "Wait, how exactly would we get out between floors?" he asked, completely baffled at whatever the teenager meant. He took out a pill bottle which contained anxiety medicine, and swallowed one. It was a good thing he had gotten a refill yesterday, now that he thought about it. It was at this point that he practically facepalmed, and realized he had a phone. Then again, how stupid would these security people be, not to notice the fact that there were a bunch of people stuck in one of their elevators? Tom decided this would be a good time to address the other passengers, considering he didn't even know any of their names. "Well, if we're in here long enough, I'm going to call somebody. I have a feeling that we might have to get used to each other soon, so let's each introduce ourselves. I'm Tom Walker, and I'm a prosecuting attorney."

[The New World Oceania]

Emergency Operator Transcript, Line 118, New York PSAP

[09:15] == Phase II [enter] Location Database Void
[09:15] == Selective Router Assigned [CADS transfer]
[09:15] == E-Operator Line 118/Call == (212) 245-9882

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[09:15] <118> 911, what is your emergency?
[09:15] <2122459882_> Elevator 17 in 30 Rockefeller Plaza is stopped.
[09:16] <118> Alright, are you in the elevator?
[09:16] <2122459882_> No.
[09:16] <118> Has the building's management been alerted?
[09:16] <2122459882_> No.
[09:16] <118> Okay, you're at 30 Rockefeller Plaza?
[09:16] <2122459882_> I don't think they want to know.
[09:16] <118> Sorry, what was that?
[09:16] <2122459882_> There's a bomb in the elevator.
[09:17] <118> I need you to stay on the line with me. There's a bomb in the elevator?
[09:17] <2122459882_> That's what I said. [inaudible]
[09:17] <118> How are you aware of this?
[09:17] <2122459882_> The bomb-setter is in the elevator.
[09:17] <118> Hold on, I need to [inaudible]
[09:17] <2122459882_> It will detonate at 2:09 p.m. on February 15th.
[09:18] == Dispatch [ip] order, Station 16 Rockefeller
[09:18] <118> If you could stay on the line, I'm alerting dispatchers now. Remain
[09:18] <2122459882_> If the bomb-setter is killed the bomb will not detonate. The elevator will [inaudible]
[09:18] == Dispatch [r] entry request [18-9-88-16L4 Rkflr\\]\wait
[09:18] == 18-9-88-16L4 rkflr [onhold] [redirect CADS transfer]
[09:18] <118> Okay, just stay on the line.
[09:18] <2122459882_> I can't do that.
[09:19] <118> Sorry? I need
[09:19] == Phase II [endcall]
[09:19] == Selective Router [open]
[09:19] == E-Operator Line 118/open
[09:19] <118> [inaudible]
[09:19] == Line 118 [transfer]
[09:19] == Rerouting to E9 Supervisor
[09:19] == Emergency Dispatcher Sup. E9/Direct == L118
[09:19] <118_> Rick, I have a caller threatening to bomb an elevator.
[09:19] <E9> Were they dispatched?
[09:19] <118_> They hung up, dispatchers notified.
[09:19] <E9> I'm getting the transcript
[09:20] <118_> Rockefeller 16 was dispatched.
[09:20] <E9> We need the bomb squad, NY Fire, and SWAT. Get fire, I'll dispatch [inaudible] others.

---

[09:20] == L118 [endcall] /cut
[09:20] == E9/redirect\\waitall
[09:20] == Dispatch [r-asap] call request [1418-9 BMB SQD NYC\\]/immd [root\E9 NYPSAP]
[09:21] == Dispatch [r-asap] call request [rkflrFDNY 18-18-18-906-4\\]/immd [root\L118 NYPSAP]
[09:21] == 1418-9 BMBSQDNYC [active] [dispatch/E9]
[09:21] == Dispatch [r-asap] call request [NYSWAT-002\\]/immd [root\E9 NYPSAP]
[09:21] == rkflrFDNY 18-18-18-906-4 [onhold] [rerun r-asap]/immd
[09:21] == rkflrFDNY 18-18-18-906-4 [active] [dispatch/L118]
[09:21] == NYSWAT-002 [active] [dispatch/E9]

---

There’s new strategy coming in. It’ll be Molotov cocktails this month, hand
grenades next month, and something else next month. It’ll be ballots or it’ll be
bullets. It’ll be liberty or it will be death. The only difference about this kind of
death — it’ll be reciprocal.

Malcolm X

[Cylarn]

Scott ignored the man's complaints after he had forcibly entered the elevator. He had more important things to worry about at the moment, though he was dreading what would happen next. More than likely, Colonel Hagan and the rest of the staff were glaring right at the door, waiting to grab the S3 as soon as he entered that floor. It seemed as though he was embarrassing the Army, especially when the elevator chose to ruin his day by shutting down abruptly. He almost jumped a little bit, as the shudder reminded him of the way that munitions would shatter the ground. The lights went out, and he began to chuckle. To be truthful, it was quite hilarious that the elevator would be in on the complex conspiracy to bring down Scott's Army career.

Everyone began to talk, and it seemed everyone was in the same boat. One of the passengers, a guy named Tom, suggested that everyone introduce themselves. Scott sighed, and decided that there was no harm in such a thing.

"Scott Depleur," he said. "I'm in the Army. I guess we're all late for something, but I will climb all the way up to the goddamn 50th Floor if I have to."

[The Almighty Bob]

Scott ignored the man's complaints after he had forcibly entered the elevator. He had more important things to worry about at the moment, though he was dreading what would happen next. More than likely, Colonel Hagan and the rest of the staff were glaring right at the door, waiting to grab the S3 as soon as he entered that floor. It seemed as though he was embarrassing the Army, especially when the elevator chose to ruin his day by shutting down abruptly. He almost jumped a little bit, as the shudder reminded him of the way that munitions would shatter the ground. The lights went out, and he began to chuckle. To be truthful, it was quite hilarious that the elevator would be in on the complex conspiracy to bring down Scott's Army career.

Everyone began to talk, and it seemed everyone was in the same boat. One of the passengers, a guy named Tom, suggested that everyone introduce themselves. Scott sighed, and decided that there was no harm in such a thing.

"Scott Depleur," he said. "I'm in the Army. I guess we're all late for something, but I will climb all the way up to the goddamn 50th Floor if I have to."

"Hi, everybody. Name's Steven Alexander McGanigan," said Steve, doing a little flourish with his cane, "but you can call me Steve. I hope we get out of this soon. We're all in this together, and as long as we don't start eating each other, we should be fine." He gave an awkward laugh and coughed. "Well, let's take inventory. How many of us have phones or flashlights?"

[Saestea]

Knox Stanforth

Tom Walker, Scott Depleur, and Something-something McGanigan. Alright.
Knox repeated the names over just so he wouldn't forget or confuse one person with the other. He decided to wait for the others to introduce themselves before he did so. But someone, Mister McGanigan in particular, asked for an inventory of phones and lights. Knox quickly raised his phone, hoping someone would notice him, being short and young... But no one saw. They were looking at each other and elsewhere. So he decided to speak up.

"Uhmm... I-I've got a phone." he said softly, showing the backside of his phone, noticing how Tom seemed irritated with someone shining lights at him.

[Aelford]

Bob Dickson

Bob responded by taking off his hoodie and taking out his smartphone, when the kid spoke up as well. "Wow. He's so young. He's the youngest so he'll probably be the most frightened here. No wonder." he thought.

"Alright guys. I guess we're all stuck here for a little while. My name's Bob Dickson." he said, to the snickering of some people. "Yes," he thought, "What a horrible name to be given. But having people laugh at my name is better than them panicking in the dark and possibly dying from a heart attack."

"Gosh. So if the tech guys don't save us soon, we'll have to bust our way out or something, right?" Bob said, trying to lighten the mood, especially with the glowering army guy, Scott Depleur, who seemed to want any excuse to get pissed off or something.

[Krytonus]

Rory O'Driscoll

"Rory O'Driscoll, hi. As you can see, I've got a phone. I've also got a Swiss army knife, if that helps. I get paranoid." I announced as I rummage around my bag.
"Aha!" I exclaim as my hand grips my Swiss, and I pull it out. It takes me a little while to pull out the fiddled screwdriver attachment. I get down on my hunkers, waving around my phone to try and find the screws under the button panel. The light flashed over a small panel with four screws.
"Bingo." I whisper as I apply the screwdriver to the first screw, but it doesn't work. I focus the light more on the screw. The screwdriver won't work on a screw like this. It's too big for the job.
"Anybody got a screwdriver?"

[Jessjohnesik]

Johanna was caught off guard by the sudden activity in the elevator. Not that she wasn't for human cooperation, rather her introversion being harmed by the surge of social activity made her...irritated? Stieg wasn't quite sure what she felt, but what she knew is that those feelings weren't too positive. Questions ran through her mind as she kept quiet, ignoring the requests and whatnot, in fact considering some of them blatantly useless and completely unneeded.

A Screwdriver?- Johanna thought as her mind mocked the initial questions itself. She wasn't quite sure who in the world would have a screwdriver on their hands in such a place. Stieg severely doubted anyone beyond technicians and similar professions would carry such instruments. And yet even those people would only do so on their job.

Meanwhile the other man's attempts to ease the situation and create a humorous atmosphere made Johanna increasingly and intensely uneasy. At this point, Stieg was ignoring her objectivity and putting up unhelpful obstacles between herself and society. Obstacles that will eventually tumble onto her and crush her. Her basic human stubbornness prevented accurate evaluation of her actions, or rather inaction. She was nowhere near giving any sort of information to these strangers, who were neither colleagues, friends, family or any other figures worthy of giving information. Information that wasn't needed at all, to the best of Johanna's knowledge.

On the outside, Johanna had relatively easily kept a calm and mostly emotionless expression, without saying any further words, but soon enough ruling out the option of complete silence in even the short term. She'd await a more personal confrontation from a person before saying anything.