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 Post Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2011 4:57 pm 
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Location: Praise be to the sticky elastic bands of the Healing Gauze
Locking the bolt on the door, Smith heads into the main room and turns on the television and switches to the first news station he sees, adjusting the volume so he'll hear it from some distance away. After he does that, he searches his hotel room and takes stock of what all he has in his possession before heading out onto the balcony. From there he will see if he can get a good view of the streets below.

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 Post Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 11:18 pm 
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The day wears on. The conference is halted as St. Louis goes into lockdown, the news announcing that the airport has been shut down and all air traffic is being rerouted. The National Guard shows up on the grounds of the Arch, along with hundreds of emergency response personnel. Bridges out of the city to the rural Illinois side are closed, and traffic is halted, as the political heads of the city come onto national news to speak of an investigation into the "attack". John wasn't able do much besides being the first man on the scene. He assisted in recovering the few survivors that descended from the hall above. Three hundred and fifty people died, and by the end of the day, the formerly magnificent Arch is twisted and slumped into an afterimage of it's former self, charred debris scattered about below.

You sit in your room, unable to do much, as the nation watches the reaction. Late into the evening, the nightly news comes on, with the spokesperson saying that several terrorist groups had taken responsibility for the "attack". However, local airspace authorities had announced that the man in the Cessna had been a man in good standing with the group, a born resident of the US, and national investigation had led to no contacts outside of the country. The accident appeared to match the description of a pilot that was under the influence of alcohol, yet it looks likely that the news won't let go of this one easily.

A small news story afterwards catches your attention. Attention seems to have fallen off the "Princeton Prank", yet no one has come forward to claim that it was their responsibility. And there have been no reports from the town that the prank came from. The reporter seems to gloss over this bit, going on about modern responsibility in college and moving on to the next segment.

It's sunset on April Third, 2012. Floodlights bath the Arch's grounds in stark white, picking out crew as they move over it. Lightning flickers in the hills miles away, and a heavy feeling settles in.

Several hours later...

It's about two in the morning, and sirens wail down the street again. They've been going on and off for hours now. They fade away- and then the sound of gunfire splits the quiet. The sharp rattle and distant shouting awakens you suddenly.

Location: Hotel Rooms [Mal] [David] [Smith] [John]
Present: Luggage, TV
Exits: Balcony, Hall

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 Post Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2011 12:33 am 
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"What in the hell is going on?" Smith wonders aloud, looking up from the various applications for work he'd picked up throughout the day to stare in the direction the gunshots came from. He hasn't yet gone to bed, and is still fully dressed. For the most part, he'd written off the earlier sirens as related to the incident at the arch and had paid them no heed, but now that he's hearing gunshots he's starting to get worried.

Picking himself up from the chair he'd been sitting in, Smith heads out into the hallway to investigate the source of the noise.

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 Post Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2011 9:52 pm 
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The hallway is still and quiet with the muted tone most hotels possess. The sirens don't reach this far, and as Smith looks around, nothing appears out of the ordinary. He looks down the hall towards the elevators, around the corner. Afew men stand there, talking in hushed tones. Their conversation stops as they look up at the sound of Smith's door and gaze at him for a long moment, then look back to each other quickly.

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 Post Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2011 11:26 pm 
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Mal goes out on his balcony to see what all the commotion is.

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 Post Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2011 12:46 am 
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His curiosity piqued, Smith moves toward the men who are having their discussion. "Hey! You guys wouldn't happen to have any idea about what's going on, now would you? I thought I heard gunshots just now."

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 Post Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2011 10:54 pm 
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Mal looks down below. It looks like there are people running freely in the streets, ignoring the squealing horns of traffic. Down in the park, he can barely make out what appears to be a line of people picked out against the lights. The gunfire is coming from all over the city.

Smith strides down the hall to the trio. One of them punches the button for the elevator. He seems to be the only one willing to talk, as well. The other two move off down the hall. He looks back at them and says, "I don't really know. It appears that there's some sort of... "mob mentality virus", the news called it. We've been told to stay inside." He looks past Smith towards his hotel room door. "I suppose someone's decided to fix it. If you'll excuse me." He walks down the hall to join the other two. They disappear into a room. The elevator pings, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty carriage.

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 Post Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 12:00 am 
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"Zombies, you mean." Dave was awakened by the commotion and walked to the elevator. "Or 'mob mentality virus'. Or maybe we could call them 'the Infected'. Or even more vague and roundabout, 'Them'. I'm sure there's a variety of pronouns and euphemisms to chose from."

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 Post Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 12:26 am 
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"You've been watching too much High School of the Dead," Smith laughs. "But yeah, I suppose Them will work for now. Or Zeds. I like Zeds."

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