Scenarios

To illustrate in a more… hm… visceral way what Depeche might be good for, I’ve drawn up a couple of scenarios - short stories almost - that shows scenarios and what Depeche could do in them.

The Disaster

The town had been isolated as debris filled the roads, but the aid helicopters could still reach it. Some of them brought in water and medical supplies, some brought workers to help with the rescue efforts underway. All of them left with wounded.

As she stepped off the helicopter, Claires telephone connected to the WiFi that her organisation had set up in the makeshift heliport - In a few seconds hundreds of messages to and from the survivors had been exchanged, either discharged or retrieved. Some of the locals had also gathered, anxious for news - information on, or proof of life from loved ones in nearby communities. Within hours, the messages would have filtered throughout the town, also reaching those who could not be here to pick them up from Claire.

As she wearily went to have a sit in the canteen, awaiting the heloicopter to be readied for its return flight, she noticed an elderly man, staring dazedly at his phone, tears streaking his cheaks. His messages had not been what he had hoped for.

The Regime

Mr Park knew he was being watched. He had been since he spoke to his superior at the factory about the working conditions. In retrospect, he should have kept his mouth shut, but what is done is done.

As he neared the hand-off zone he knew that this might be the time he got caught, but he hade made his decision and was going to follow through on this. The outside world had to know what happened here. Especially their big neighbour - their brothers, as they were called. They didn’t look very brotherly to Mr Park when his niece was sent back across the border and… That didn’t matter now. He had work to do.

He sat down at the nr 3 table in the cheap outside eatery. The girl across the table didn’t even look up from her meal, but she was wearing a green scarf. Good enough. Mr Park reached into his pocket and triple-pressed the volume-up button on his phone.

As he rose from the table, his plate was as clean as his concience. The girl in the green scarf had left seconds after Mr Park sat down, but mr Parks watcher remained predictably hovering around a largely empty toy store across the street. It seemed that things had worked out this time as well. Even if they should stop him, the emergeny unlock code should wipe the app from his phone before they could stop him… He hoped. But he also hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because most people didn’t even have phones of this caliber - He’d had to source it on the black market.

While mr Park was pondering the future, the images and his words were travelling. Hopping and skipping and eventually crossed borders and made it into world news.

The Resistance

The unit had been holed up here for three days now, and the radio had been busted for two of them. In Yusufs opinion, it was a piece of shit to begin with and not much worse for wear in its current state. Four hours ago, one of the neighbouring buildings had collapsed after some big caliber mortar round had smashed up its remaining support and all the soldiers were now covered in a fine, flour-like dusting of pulverized concrete. They looked like ghosts.

As the despatch carrier made it through, Yusuf treated him of what little water they had left. The carrier didn’t look like he could be more than fifteen, but he put on a pretty fierce face anyway as they both pulled out their phones and exchanged messages. Yes. The good news was that the order to pull out had finally been issued. The bad news was that they’d have to wait until nightfall for their replacements.

The despatch carrier gave them a grin and ran out the back of the building through a missing section of the wall, taking cover from sniper fire behind a pretty beaten up brick wall. Yusuf hoped the boy would make it to all the five squads holding this sector. Hope is what keeps you alive, after all.