CYBERBENT

SGRUBless/bloodswap AU. Focus on the cyberpunk genre, political intrigue, worldbuilding, and para roleplay. The timeline is currently full!

[trollintheshell-blog]

WELCOME! TO CYBERBENT.COM our timeline is full! feel free to peruse our cast of naughty techno gremlins: terezi megido: @inverumlibertas equius nitram: played by sel! aradia captor: @apicultured gamzee vantas: @tincanfullofdirt kanaya leijon: @grandedameaupair nepeta maryam: played by kitty! eridan pyrope: @calumniare feferi serket: @dylidae vriska zahhak: played by zelne! tavros makara: @puermollis karkat ampora: @hosteriumfictus sollux peixes: @biolacis feel free to look around the timeline blog, too!

[calumniare-blog]

>Repent.

| Eridan Pyrope |

You’re quietly watching outside the window, watching all the new colours the sky introduces to you in just a few minutes as the dawn starts. You lean back, taking it all in and trying to relax. Damn it. It’s been three days and no sign from any guard suddenly proudly carrying Peixes to your doorstep. No one to turn to, no one who could possibly know where he went. Fucking damn it. Out of nowhere you impulsively knock over documents, little souvenirs from trips you’ve taken, photos and what the fuck ever. You can’t even bring yourself to care for a split of a second.

You turn around just to convince yourself once again that you’re alone. No one to impress with your calm and unpredictable exterior, no one to judge you for your mistakes. Just you. You can’t even feel lonely with how your anger takes up the entire room, even making you claustrophobic. You need to do something. See someone. Plan something. God, if it weren’t for your guards just outside the office you’d be screaming your fucking lungs out, but after all of this your image is still more important. You have to keep it up, you have to stay calm.

You need to run somewhere. Get out of here. Quick.

And just as you walk an inch closer to the door someone knocks. Looks like destiny is one step ahead of you.

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[biolacis-blog]

[S] Jailbreak

| Nepeta Maryam |

Eridan Pyrope’s guards run their routes once every thirty minutes. He has them work in pairs: if one is incapacitated, the other can call for backup. Both carry a state-of-the-art communication device, hooked into a network that can sound an alarm through the entire complex. In under a minute, the closest reinforcements can arrive and overpower any infiltrators, while the others lock down each building, starting with the most sensitive centers first. There’s a hierarchy, a numerical list, there are drills and alarms and routines and computers… Pyrope’s base is the best-secured building on the planet. Anyone would be impressed. 

It’s really too bad, you think, that their boss is the proudest blabbermouth you’ve ever met. 

It’s a matter of timing: when you enter from an escape hatch in the west wing, you’re about ten minutes ahead of the closest passing guards. If you put down a signal jammer, you have about thirty seconds before they notice it. They’ll be twenty-five seconds too slow to react. If you’re really lucky, you have five minutes before those guards fail to report in - they’re getting some much-needed rest, unfortunately - and that’s just enough time to get down the hall, around the corner, in and out of the room’s alarms and right through the single, heavily-armored door. 

You cut through plating, undo hinges, hook your climbing rope into an exposed side of the door and rig up enough leverage to sent it to the floor with a SLAM. Admittedly not your best work, but it’s not like you’re known for your physical strength. You collect your tools in three precious seconds and lift your eye-covering mask just long enough to peer into the room. Most people don’t react well to masked intruders. The least you can do is give him a semi-friendly face, if you’re going to be wrecking the room he’s apparently called home for the past three sweeps. 

“Are you coming or what?”

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