september 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Third Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of September 2019
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. turrets.

That power surge kicked off some sh... stuff, all right. It took a while for the systems to cycle back on, but two new areas of Anchor are now accessible and usable. One of them is nice and relaxing and safe, and we'll get to that one in a minute. The other one, addressed first, is not very nice and not very relaxing and definitely not safe.

The internal defense systems on the upper levels have come to life, and have targeted anyone within their range as a hostile entity. Get ready to run the gauntlet if you want to turn them off - you'll have to dodge lasers, bullets, and aggressive defense bots (that can be rewired and/or rebooted to assist characters instead of trying to murder them). The reward? Getting to the heavily protected (think many many murderbots and lasers) security control room. If you can make it, you'll be able to reboot the internal defenses, turning off the aggressive targeting and having access for the first time to surveillance of almost all of Anchor. Those areas your characters didn't know were there? Revealed. Those dense patches of jungle-like growth in the agricultural center? You've got a spotlight into their heart.

Though, huh, not all the cameras seem to be working. What's with those screens that show up from time to time that are nothing but static?

Oh well, doesn't really matter, does it?

b. hot springs episode.

One of the areas adjacent to the bar and intimacy lounge has been sputtering on and off ever since the power surge. One evening, with a loud crack and a humming sound that slowly dissipates, the lights come on and water starts flowing down the artificial waterfall into the fountain out front. The spa is back online!

The lobby is inviting and zen, with holographic walls that depict scenic locations (some of them very unlike Earth), with fountains splashing delicately on either side of the door. The attendants are slightly malfunctioning bots, but the most harm they'll do is bring you six towels when you ask for one, or a bucket of massage oil to work on those knots in your back with.

There are three areas in the spa, each of them fully-outfitted with towels, robes of all sizes, fuzzy slippers, the works. One has all the amenities of a Turkish bath, right down to the fantastically arched roofs and mosaics of Istanbul. One is designed not unlike a Japanese hot spring, though the spring is heated artificially rather than naturally. The springs are large enough to be communal in some areas and small enough to be private in others, varying in depth from deep enough to swim on one end and shallow enough to sit on the bottom on the other. All hot springs have a stone shelf around the edges where those who don't want to swim can sit. The last area is more Western, with steam rooms, saunas, massage tables, and mud baths for the adventurous.

One thing all of these areas have in common: the settings on virtually everything can be adjusted to taste. Not in the traditional way, either. The steams and waters can be tweaked to be soporific, can serve as muscle relaxants, can ease anxiety, and can even bolster moods. None of these effects are involuntary, and none of them are brought on by drugs - it's more an advanced mix of pheromones and harmless compounds that can affect a single person or a given pool or room. Also, the baths and hot springs have adjustable bubble settings. The water colors can change, some of them even allowing characters to dye their hair the color that's been selected for the tub without staining their skin. Bubbles of all kinds can rise up out of the water, from the foamy comfort of childhood bubble baths to hovering golden bubbles that chime when you pop them. Characters can choose from a variety of bath salts, scents, and oils - the spas were designed not just for relaxation, but for pure and simple fun.

c. joe's dirt.

So you've survived the security malfunction. You've washed off the dirt and anxiety at the spa. But the newly reactivated security stations throughout Anchor have revealed something odd. There's a blip in the power systems in one area of the agricultural level, like something is siphoning off power from the main lines. Tracking down the source in the deep tangle of underbrush won't be easy, and there may be a few mutated, fanged, clawed cattle that maneuver shockingly well between the trees, but eventually you'll come to a breach in Anchor's wall. At first it just looks like a crack, but it's large enough to squeeze through and there's the darkness of an open space behind it. A tunnel, leading down into the earth outside, well below surface level and thus largely safe.
Wires run along the roof and floor, though the tunnel itself is dark. Walk long enough and you'll come to a wider space, open enough for two or three people to move around comfortably at the same time. It's still dark, lit only by screens that show the same security feeds that are available at the stations throughout the city. And others. Angles on the surface that show Anchor from a distance, and other visuals that don't show Anchor at all, trained instead on massive structures or formations or lakes out on the surface somewhere. But there's something more disturbing: there are cameras set to record some people's rooms. And the only rooms that are shown are occupied.

Someone has been here, recently enough to track where new people have moved in.

On the floor in one corner, there's a crumpled photograph of a man some might recognize as Creepy Joe, happy and whole, with a little girl sitting on his shoulder. It looks like it's been stamped into the dirt.

Navigation.

Comments

Hot springs

[braidmage]

Reynir does, in fact, hear him. Not the words themselves at first, but just that someone is calling out. It is the tone more than any distinct understanding that tells him someone might need help, so he finds a towel to wrap around himself and heads in the direction of the sound. His hair is still dripping and loose, hanging down his back as he walks past some of those strange robots and in the direction of the voice. But there are more than a few doors and he isn't sure which one is right. So he calls out, loud and carrying:

"Hello? Is someone there? Are you alright?"

[abheirrant]

Oh good, an answer, and one that doesn't sound like it's from the construct beyond the door. The robot on the other side beeps a few times in response in what Carlisle is sure is a threat, the stack of towels it had been carrying when he shut the door in its face clearly hiding its true, sinister intent. However, an outside observer may notice the robot is doing its best to be accommodating, despite the paranoid fellow beyond the door and his cries for help. It waits with programmed patience, while Carlisle is positive it waits because it can.

"I- I'm in here! But be careful! There are constructs out there!"

Said construct, as if on cue, takes notice of Reynir and meanders his way, offering him a towel. Very threatening, indeed.

[braidmage]

"Constructs...?"

Reynir mutters it to himself, looking at the robot which is coming at him with a towel. He takes the towel automatically and then makes a little shooing gesture at the bot, dismissively. He doesn't mean any harm by it, but he's from a world without much technology and he doesn't really know how to treat these strange mechanical servants.

He approaches the door, testing the handle, thinking it must be jammed in some way. But it opens easily, and he pokes his head inside, braid swinging down off his shoulder, looking around to find the source of the voice.

"What's wrong? Where is the danger? Do I need to call back-up? I left my radio in the changing room."

Okay strictly speaking it's not a radio but adjustment takes time and he's not thinking about diction right now.

[abheirrant]

The moment the handle turned, Carlisle flattened himself against the far wall, hoping the distance would give him an advantage for dealing with the constructs; as it turns out, it's a person who enters rather than any machine. Cautiously peeling himself off the wall, he beelines for the door, peering outside before turning his attention to his supposed savior.

"Th- they're gone!" He sighs in relief, leaning against the frame of the door as he descends from his terror. "Cisth, I thought they'd never leave, and I would be trapped in here forever. Or until they got bored. Can constructs be bored? Are they capable of such things?"

He doesn't make it clear if he's just asking himself that, or if he wants an actual answer. Maybe he just likes to hear himself talk.

[braidmage]

The steam in the air somewhat obscures Carlisle at first, but it is clear he's not dressed for a hot springs at all. How did he end up in this place, dressed like that? And at first Reynir can't quite see what he is wearing on his face and mistakes it for a mask of the sort that non-immune people must wear to avoid infection in the Silent Lands. So he thinks, for a brief but excited moment, that this may be someone else from his world - someone who did not have the requisite mage powers to determine that the air is safe to breathe.

But as Carlisle comes closer to peer out the door, Reynir sees him more clearly and realizes he was mistaken. The mask is different - everyone here is from such foreign places, perhaps this man comes from one where showing the face is taboo. Reynir confirms, as Carlisle sags back in obvious relief:

"There was nothing outside the door. Well, except those mechanical servants. Is that what you're talking about?

He genuinely doesn't know, because perhaps a construct is some new kind of spirit that he does not have the magic to see, and this stranger's terror is entirely justified.

[abheirrant]

"Yes those!" Carlisle exclaims as he stiffens, his entire frame rigid, his fingers curling; he seems to get a hold over himself a second later as he closes the door, keeping any and all mechanical servants out. From somewhere down the hallway, a robot beeps sadly.

Unfortunately, Carlisle is unmoved by its robotic pleas. His hands shake against the surface of the door, his body quivering as he turns to face his new companion. "They're dangerous!" A pause. "Aren't- aren't they? I- I know you just said they were servants, but they have- they have little claws and they- and they move so quickly. They are unthinking! Where is their master? Are they a tinkerer or a magician?"

As he rattles off his list of reasons to fear constructs, machines, and/or robots, the door behind him discolors just around his fingertips.

[braidmage]

[ Reynir is, to say the least, alarmed. Carlisle isn't just nervous, he's freaking out. Reynir has enough experience with being the one who is freaking out over things that no one around him can see that he isn't about to automatically discredit Carlisle's instincts just because he can't see what the big fuss is anyway. ]

Hang on. There's no need to panic. We're okay right now. The door's closed, okay?

[ The shaking really is worrying him the most. He reaches out to pat Carlisle's upper arm, though the movement is slow and obvious enough that he'll be able to avoid it if he doesn't want to be touched. ]

I don't know much about them. We haven't got anything like them where I'm from. Why do you think they're dangerous? What is, uh- a tinkerer?

[ He thinks he knows what a magician is - some regional dialect's variation on mage, probably, and he really doesn't think any of those metal things could be mages. Mages have to be human. They have to be chosen by gods. What gods could things like that have?

As for the discoloration of the door, Reynir is too distracted trying to comfort Carlisle to notice it... yet. ]

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle, unfortunately, does not want to be touched, and thus avoids that offer of physical contact; he murmurs an apology under his breath, knowing the gesture was meant to be a comforting one. He folds his arms around him, not noticing the marks left on the door where his hand had been resting. The door being closed does help, but his voice still quavers with the rest of him.]

A t- tinkerer is someone specializing in the crafting of clockwork golems, animated by their internal mechanisms rather th- than by magic. They are not inherently frightening, but I find them unnerving nonetheless.

[Especially in a place where they don't look anything like the what he would have expected. Nothing does, not even these baths.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir might not always be the brightest in some ways but he certainly can take a hint; there are many other ways to offer comfort and he's not offended in the slightest, waving off that small apology. He listens to Carlisle's explanation of a tinkerer and it sounds like a mechanic, basically. There are times when Reynir really wonders about the translation spell in effect here and how well it really conveys nuances of meaning. But it's better than nothing, since without it doubtless he and this man wouldn't have a single word in common.

They can't stay in here forever. That's not an option. So they need a plan. Reynir needs to actually help, rather than just having good intentions. ]

If I can clear a path from here to the door to the outside, are you okay making a run for it?

[ There could be any number of things to make it a bad plan - not everyone is great at running and the fear might be too much for Carlisle to even try. He seems so shaken up. Reynir turns to the door, jaw set, already working out what runes he could draw to keep those robots at bay, and how he would even draw them when he doesn't have anything with him... and then, he spots the discoloration on the door.

A little furrow forms between his brows: ]

Wait, is that new? What...?

[abheirrant]

I wandered in here in an attempt to sate my curiosity. It has been thoroughly sated, and running should not be a problem, granted the constru...

[Carlisle trails off as his eyes land on Reynir, following his gaze to discern what it is he's muttering about. He thinks his new companion might be considering a plan of action for distracting the mechanized servant beeping in the corridor, but then he sees them: the spots on the door, faint discoloration as though the material itself were decaying, but only in those few, arbitrary points. What caused that? He'd had his hand there but a moment ago, and hadn't seen any—

One, two, three, four, five, he mentally counts. Four in a row, one oblong spot off by itself. His hand had been there -- or his fingers had, rather. The marks aren't arbitrary at all. He unfolds his arms suddenly, keeping his hands off his jacket as he tries to steal a glance at them. The fabric of his gloves is intact, not a sign of wear and tear on them. Is it just been coincidence that something had rotted the door in those specific spots? It must be, he determines.

But then he thinks about his encounter with Pratt, how the ground was dried up and withered around him when he fled the scene. That, too, must have been coincidence. His boots are fine. If he was the one doing the decaying -- which he wasn't and refuses to believe otherwise -- his clothes would be ruined, too. He wouldn't have a grasp on manipulating necrotic energies to leave his clothing alone unless he was very practiced. And he's not. He hasn't been dead long. Only long enough for his hometown to be abandoned. A year at best. Maybe two. He could find out if he'd finish reading the annul of the town chronicler -- and he would, if he weren't being chased by constructs. Things just keep coming up is all.

His denial mounts higher and higher; his voice picks up as he addresses anything but the truth.]

I- I can make a run for it, and- and then I can use the communication device to tell you when I am away.

[braidmage]

[ Reynir sees Carlisle look at the door, at those marks. But he's not a psychic, so all he sees is Carlisle contemplating them, and then not seeming to see them as a threat or a problem. Which, if anybody was going to react strongly to a possible threat right now, it's this very nervous guy. So Reynir puts it out of his head, the way he has so much of the strange occurrences and technology in this foreign place.

He is definitely going to grill Carlisle later about what the hidden dangers of those robot/constructs is, but for now, the plan seems solid. Reynir leaves the door for just a moment, going over to a shelf of stuff that's probably meant to be added to the hot water. There are various bottles of scent and bubbles and a few littler bottles with bright liquid inside. Dyes, meant to stain the water in interesting colors for a while. It's not ideal, but he could use them on the ground, for runes. He really is going to have to get into the habit of bringing a brush and some paint with him everywhere he goes. Even places he plans on being otherwise naked.

Coming back to the door, he meets Carlisle's eyes and gives a reassuring smile: ]

When the path's clear, I'll whistle, and that's your signal, okay?

[abheirrant]

[Though he doesn't ask exactly what his companion is going to do with those dyes, Carlisle is happy he seems to have an idea of how to handle the constructs, which is far more than he can say for himself. He feels almost optimistic for a second, returning Reynir's smile -- not that it can be seen behind his mask, but the corners of his eyes lift, giving him a distinctly more positive look than he had a moment prior. Despite that, the worry remains knotted tightly in his brow.]

Right. Whistle good. You whistle, I flee for my life. Good plan.

[braidmage]

Okay.

[ Reynir squares up his shoulders. His heart is beating a little quick but he can do this. Even if there is a hidden danger to those robots he doesn't know, they haven't tried to harm him until now. No reason to think they would change their minds all at once. He nods to Carlisle and then slips out the door.

In the lobby there are two robots. As forcefully as he can manage, Reynir points into the sauna room and tells them: ]

Hey, um, go in there right now! [ A beat, and then, still in his best commanding voice: ] Please!

[ They don't move at first, and Reynir is worried he'll have to try something else. But then they both go, and as soon as they're on the other side of the door Reynir runs over, pushing it closed and holding it that way with his back against it, even as he opens up the dye and dips a fingertip in. The rune isn't too complex, and it's one he's drawn many times before. As soon as it's there on the door, he moves away from it, quickly checks the others leading off from the lobby. There are no robots immediately behind any of them, so he doesn't waste time with more wards, just whistles loudly. ]

[abheirrant]

[A second after Reynir's whistle, Carlisle cracks the door open, peering out to make sure the path is indeed clear before emerging. Not a construct in sight, not even the one with the towels. Good. Very good.

Darting out of the room, he beelines for the exit to the rest of Anchor, walking as quickly as possible while trying to look vaguely casual. Though fairly certain these robots cannot read his mind, he'd rather look the part of calm and composed for as long as he can, especially given he's been nothing but a nervous wreck since he woke up in this world. He does well, his pace quick -- that is until he reaches the lobby, his eyes drawn immediately to the rune-covered door.

He slows to a halt, reasoning that his companion must have drawn this -- it certainly wasn't here when he came in, and the dye is the right color. It's not glyphcrafting, nor is it any sigil Carlisle recognizes, but it definitely does seem rune-like in nature, and there are many forms of magic in the world -- probably more in a place where people can come from many worlds. Is he a magician? What does the symbol mean? Is it an enchantment specifically to ward away constructs, and can such an enchantment be taught?

Well, it's likely not that last one, but Carlisle files that away as something to consider later, as a beep from beyond the door draws him back into the moment -- and more importantly, what he's supposed to be doing rather than pondering the intricacies of otherworld magic. He's so focused on committing the sigil to memory so he can write it down when he gets a chance that he doesn't even notice Reynir on his way out, bolting right past the fellow without so much as a nod. Despite all his layers, he runs quite fast.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir notices Carlisle looking at the rune - it would be pretty hard to miss - but he isn't sure if it is because of the rune itself or because he's hearing something from the robots on the other side of the door that Reynir cannot. It seems entirely possible to him; it had become commonplace for him, in the Silent World, to hear the ghosts talking when Sigrun and Mikkel and Tuuri and Emil heard nothing at all.

So he is mostly bracing himself in case the rune doesn't work, and he has to intervene and help Carlisle. But that moment doesn't come. After his moment of distraction, the other man sprints out, back into the Anchor, without a word or wave or glance. For a moment Reynir just stands there in stunned silence, but then he grins. He'd done it. He helped!

To himself, quietly, he says: ]

Bye!

[ Then he scoops up some of the water from the fountain, uses it to splash that rune away from the door before it dries. But he doesn't linger; he's going to have to look into these robots and find out whether or not they really are the threat this stranger seemed to believe they are. ]