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redshiftlogs2020-02-02 06:48 pm
modblob) wrote in redshiftlogs2020-02-02 06:48 pm
Entry tags:
- !mod post: intro mingle,
- assassin's creed: jacob frye,
- assassin's creed: ratonhnhakéton,
- borderlands: angel,
- dragon age: cole,
- hunger games: finnick odair,
- irredeemable: qubit,
- marble hornets: brian thomas,
- mass effect: commander rufina shepard,
- mcu: peter parker,
- original: elleru,
- original: rey,
- overwatch: hanzo shimada,
- red dead redemption: charles smith,
- samurai jack: scaramouche,
- star wars: kylo ren,
- umbrella academy: allison hargreeves,
- umbrella academy: ben hargreeves,
- warm bodies: julie grigio
february 2020. welcome to the void.
Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Seventh Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of February 2020
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.
What: Seventh Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of February 2020
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.
Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.
Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.
a. the maze.
The sun is back. Only one this time! It is very very large.
But never mind that! Anchorites have a whole new area to explore. With the sun's return and the power surging through Anchor again, the water in the underground area has drained off, revealing a door that leads down to another level. There's only two doors. One that leads to some kind of observation room, the technology waterlogged and largely destroyed. The other leads to a blank hallway, short, with what looks like an open airlock hatch with a door that can be winched shut with a handle on both the inside and outside, leading into a room beyond.
That room beyond is empty, and the door will remain open until it reads more than one life sign inside the room. Then, it slams the hatch shut and starts to turn, rolling clockwise until what was the roof is now the floor. Then doors open. One straight ahead. One to the left. One to the right. One pointed downward. Even odds whether you walk through into another empty room or walk in and find yourself having a no good very bad day. If you do end up in a blank room, you may be sent in an endless zig-zag of empty spaces that either lead you to the door you came in at long last, or, well. End up ruining your day. Regardless of where you go or how you get there, you're aware that every hour on the hour, the rooms move abruptly forward, backward, up, down, without any rhyme or reason. The place is in motion, reshuffling itself, and the only way back out is through.
There are several types of rooms, scattered seemingly at random among the various rooms you can exit through.
ROOM A
The door opens and lets out a billow of cold air. Not just cold, it's freezing. You could take one of the other doors, but at least this one is different, isn't it? It feels like progress. But when you enter, the way back slams shut, leaving you in the dark and the cold with no one but your fellow trapped soul for company. This room won't open again for at least an hour. If you want to live, you're going to have to get nice and cozy.
ROOM B
This room, like the first, closes once you get inside. Crackling beams of energy flash across the room at seemingly random intervals and angles, blocking the way to any of the exits. Put a foot wrong, and you're liable to end up with a hole through it...or your torso. Watch long enough, however, and you might start to see a pattern in the way the energy travels. It still won't be easy to reach the other doorways, but at least now you have a fighting chance.
ROOM C
This room is a puzzle box. Immediately after you enter, the walls start moving, giant tiles sliding into place over the doors. It lurches, turns, spills you against one wall and the next in a dizzying, bruising circle. When it stops, the doors are hidden behind tiles of different sizes, and the only way to escape is to puzzle out how to move the tiles away from one of the doorways. Be quick about it - the longer it takes, the more layers of tiles creep in to make things harder, layer by layer, until the room starts to get pretty small....
ROOM D
Step inside, and the room lurches, dropping downward, then shifting left, then moving upward again. The doors in this room point in all directions except down. There are colored tiles all over the floor and walls. But that floor and those walls are moving, the tiles shifting in nebulous patterns, like some exterior hand is treating the space like a Rubik's cube.
Careful where you step. It's not an obvious puzzle to crack, but once you step on a tile of one color, you can only step on tiles of that color. Step elsewhere and who knows what will happen. The room could fill with toxic gas. It could start playing ear-splitting screams and the lights could start flashing. Or, one of the tiles could simply explode with a small enough charge to take off the leg that stepped there. The consequences vary, but they're never pleasant, and they never leave their victim unscathed.
ROOM E
There are monsters behind the glass walls. Rather, there is one very familiar looking monster. Ropy, plantlike tentacles weave in and out of one another, forming shapes and intricate designs with their tiny flowerlike mouths. They could almost be pretty, if you hadn't seen them for the first time protruding from Creepy Joe's eye.
Holes punctuate the roof and floor, and through those holes, sensing body heat, the tentacles start to crawl. Hunting for bare skin. Hunting for a host.
There's only one door out of here, and it's across the room from where you came in - and the way back is closed. Crossing the room poses the very real risk of infection from the creatures in the walls, but doing nothing is almost a guarantee of ending up with a nasty parasite.
Good luck.
But never mind that! Anchorites have a whole new area to explore. With the sun's return and the power surging through Anchor again, the water in the underground area has drained off, revealing a door that leads down to another level. There's only two doors. One that leads to some kind of observation room, the technology waterlogged and largely destroyed. The other leads to a blank hallway, short, with what looks like an open airlock hatch with a door that can be winched shut with a handle on both the inside and outside, leading into a room beyond.
That room beyond is empty, and the door will remain open until it reads more than one life sign inside the room. Then, it slams the hatch shut and starts to turn, rolling clockwise until what was the roof is now the floor. Then doors open. One straight ahead. One to the left. One to the right. One pointed downward. Even odds whether you walk through into another empty room or walk in and find yourself having a no good very bad day. If you do end up in a blank room, you may be sent in an endless zig-zag of empty spaces that either lead you to the door you came in at long last, or, well. End up ruining your day. Regardless of where you go or how you get there, you're aware that every hour on the hour, the rooms move abruptly forward, backward, up, down, without any rhyme or reason. The place is in motion, reshuffling itself, and the only way back out is through.
There are several types of rooms, scattered seemingly at random among the various rooms you can exit through.
The door opens and lets out a billow of cold air. Not just cold, it's freezing. You could take one of the other doors, but at least this one is different, isn't it? It feels like progress. But when you enter, the way back slams shut, leaving you in the dark and the cold with no one but your fellow trapped soul for company. This room won't open again for at least an hour. If you want to live, you're going to have to get nice and cozy.
This room, like the first, closes once you get inside. Crackling beams of energy flash across the room at seemingly random intervals and angles, blocking the way to any of the exits. Put a foot wrong, and you're liable to end up with a hole through it...or your torso. Watch long enough, however, and you might start to see a pattern in the way the energy travels. It still won't be easy to reach the other doorways, but at least now you have a fighting chance.
This room is a puzzle box. Immediately after you enter, the walls start moving, giant tiles sliding into place over the doors. It lurches, turns, spills you against one wall and the next in a dizzying, bruising circle. When it stops, the doors are hidden behind tiles of different sizes, and the only way to escape is to puzzle out how to move the tiles away from one of the doorways. Be quick about it - the longer it takes, the more layers of tiles creep in to make things harder, layer by layer, until the room starts to get pretty small....
Step inside, and the room lurches, dropping downward, then shifting left, then moving upward again. The doors in this room point in all directions except down. There are colored tiles all over the floor and walls. But that floor and those walls are moving, the tiles shifting in nebulous patterns, like some exterior hand is treating the space like a Rubik's cube.
Careful where you step. It's not an obvious puzzle to crack, but once you step on a tile of one color, you can only step on tiles of that color. Step elsewhere and who knows what will happen. The room could fill with toxic gas. It could start playing ear-splitting screams and the lights could start flashing. Or, one of the tiles could simply explode with a small enough charge to take off the leg that stepped there. The consequences vary, but they're never pleasant, and they never leave their victim unscathed.
There are monsters behind the glass walls. Rather, there is one very familiar looking monster. Ropy, plantlike tentacles weave in and out of one another, forming shapes and intricate designs with their tiny flowerlike mouths. They could almost be pretty, if you hadn't seen them for the first time protruding from Creepy Joe's eye.
Holes punctuate the roof and floor, and through those holes, sensing body heat, the tentacles start to crawl. Hunting for bare skin. Hunting for a host.
There's only one door out of here, and it's across the room from where you came in - and the way back is closed. Crossing the room poses the very real risk of infection from the creatures in the walls, but doing nothing is almost a guarantee of ending up with a nasty parasite.
Good luck.
b. matchmaker, matchmaker.
Those who don't venture down into the newly opened lab will suffer a very different kind of torture. The robo-matchmaker is at it again. Even odds as to whether or not it's malfunctioning or it's just bored because of how few people use the intimacy lounge. Either way, it's setting up dating profiles for residents of anchor and broadcasting them over the network to be seen by all and sundry. They might not be accurate, they might not even make sense, but what the 'bot lacks in prose style it makes up with enthusiasm. It's so enthusiastic, in fact, that it's messaging people on behalf of those too shy to do it themselves. The texts it sends are as off the wall as the profiles it creates, so seriously. Go nuts.
Thankfully, this time it's had the foresight to make a version for anyone underage, but where it draws that distinction can vary wildly, and is up to the player.
Thankfully, this time it's had the foresight to make a version for anyone underage, but where it draws that distinction can vary wildly, and is up to the player.
Robo-Matchmaker (?̵̢̠̀?̷̠͉͍̝̙̕ͅ?̡̢̡̹̩̖̝̞̪̦̘ͅ)
I͎͇̰̺̼͡ ̝̳̼̻͕̩͚á̷̳͍̫͕͞m̱̱̺͍̳̞̖ ̴̥͇̣͎̺̤̩͕̩͜h͖̕͞͠er͉̟͕͈̳̀ḙ͔̼̠̤ ͓̠̰̗̹̘̣͔t͏̸̤̳̙͍͎̮͕̞͢o҉̨̜͖̠̝͙̜̦̜ ̮̠̝̪̩̤̣m̖̻a̤͙̘̲̫̩̗k̮͓̀͜e̶̠͚͞ ̯̯̘̦͜͠you͈̹̟͔͜͠ͅr͈̮̮̗͖̜̠͠ ̮̗̗̹̘̬̠͢d̴̵̯͖̀r̷͇͍̦̗̯͢eaṃ̘͝͞ş̳̺̭̮͜ ̖͚͚͓͙͇͙͓̜c͖͕̰̞̺̟̫ớ͈̖͇̲̗m̶̞̟̣̘͎̘̲̣̕͢é̠̯͞ ̼t͔͢r͢͏̠̙̜̬͖̞̥̜ư̧͈̫͜e̹̮̮̝͝.̗̠̪̭̫͞
Interests: true love, friends with benefits, e͏͇̫m̲̤̬͟ ͉͍͜ǫ̙̟̳̲͘t̬͓i҉̟̼̣͓̯̜̞̼͜ ҉̛̺̪̣͈͖͖̟̥̺o̴̢͔̙̥̠̟̮̮̪̩n̷̗̜s҉̰̖̯͟͠
Assets: I̤̥̙̺̪̪̱͜ ̢̟k̢̰̫ͅn͕̤̳o̤͚͓͓w̲̬ ͠e̸̞̺̳͔̙ve̝̳̭̣̝͠ͅry͏̝̙̠t̲͚̠hi͕̣̯ng̭͓͕̖͈ ̖̣ą̰͖̲ͅbơ̯̥̹̠̱u͉̯̪͟t̜̞̱ yo̹͙ͅu̢̗.̡̪̥̙̱̘̞ ͕̀:̮̩̯̜̗̘)
Ass-ets: a bot never tells
✔ 😏 💀 🍆 ❤ 🔥 ✖
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no subject
Nothing to scale the walls with, either. Rey looks, but finds no footholds or anything above that she could reach and grab hold of.
"Wonder if we're on a timer. If we don't solve this thing within a certain period, we die some horrible frosty demise." Not that that concerns Rey in the least. "Or if waiting it out without freezing to death is the solution."
How long can they afford that, though? Do they have oxygen circulating through here? If not, would they run out?
no subject
"Perhaps it is, as there does not seem to be anything in this room."
no subject
"Fucking figures they couldn't have put together something creative for a change. Not exactly the most original trap."
If anything, it's boring.
no subject
"That is your concern?"
Maybe it is rather boring, but he's worried that's not what it is. He at least isn't going to stop looking, just in case there is something minuscule and very well hidden that he has missed.
no subject
"Am concerned about a lot of things," she scoffs, pressing a hand to a freezing wall. Good thing her body radiates heat, or it would have been enough to freeze her skin in place right then and there. "Dying a boring death would just be annoying."
And ruin her streak of dying in more interesting and gruesome ways. Not that Rey plans on dying here of all places.
no subject
Personally he has no desire to die in an 'exciting' way. In fact, his wish to die peacefully surrounded by loved ones may just be considered boring. And if this will lead to death, he'd call it more unpleasant than boring.
But he decides to drop it.
no subject
After a while, she just focuses on the room, until it seems like there's nothing there. She grunts in frustration.
"Fuck this place, you'd think there would at least be walls closing in or a pendulum. Those are classics."
no subject
"Do you find yourself trapped often?"