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

[scowlish]

[Onni keeps that single eye open as he looks over at Reynir, and makes a little snort when Reynir says he wants to try to braid his hair now. He'd thought Reynir would probably forget about that, since he seems like the type who might move on quickly from an in-the-moment urge. At least, that was what Onni had assumed when the younger man first asked about braiding his hair.

Closing the eye again, Onni shakes his head - more out of confusion than any rejection of the request, for now, and makes a considering noise in his throat. Lifting one hand, he self-consciously pushes it through his hair, pulling his bangs away from his damp forehead, feeling the coarseness of it between his fingers. It's different than Lalli's or Tuuri's; it's very different from Reynir's. He can tell that just by looking at it.

After a moment, he sighs, makes a little grunt, and nods at the younger man.]

I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything.

[In some small corner of his mind, he's aware that he wouldn't usually allow such a thing, but he feels calm and content right now, and so he thinks he'll be alright allowing it.]

[braidmage]

Yay!

[ Reynir says it aloud, delighted, before turning and without delay running his hands through Onni's hair to get a sense of the length, the thickness of it, what sort of braid he ought to use. He notices, too, that Onni's hair feels a little coarse. It is also uneven still from where some of it was cut (was that when his ear got injured?). But neither of these are insurmountable issues, to Reynir.

He merely gets to his feet, making his way back down to where those additives were. They are not all that this sauna comes stocked with. There are some oils meant for massages, as well as some which Reynir recognizes as conditioners meant for hair. He tips tiny samples from different ones into his palm, assessing, before picking one that seems like it might help.

Then he returns to drop down to his towel at Onni's side, with a sigh like just that small trip was so much exertion. He pours a good helping of the stuff into his palm, spreads it over both hands, and without further ado starts working it into Onni's hair. Which involves an awful lot of mussing up his hair, combing his hands through it, making sure he has the stuff spread evenly from Onni's scalp to the ends of his hair. Reynir's hands move without hesitation, pulling a little here and there, but never hard enough to hurt, tilting Onni's head this way and that as needed to reach where he needs to. ]

You should take the rest of this bottle, when we leave. It'll be good for your hair's health.

[ Yes, Onni, your hair has health and needs to be cared for! Reynir talks about that as if it's just standard practice. ]

[scowlish]

[When Reynir actually cheers at his affirmative response, Onni actually snorts. He suspects the moment Reynir actually touches his hair, which might as well be the end of a straw broom, he'll probably realize this is a bad idea.

But he doesn't. Reynir just runs his fingers through it, inspects the spot where Emil's little hellion cousin cut both his hair and the tip of his ear off, digs his fingertips down to Onni's scalp to feel how thick his hair is (very thick) and then pulls his hands out of it. Onni expects that to be the end of it, but Reynir just gets up and heads back down to the area by the hot stones, digging around in the provided lotions and oils until he finds what he wants and heads back up.

Onni resigns himself to this braiding business happening. It could be worse, he supposes, though he's feeling too content and relaxed to really put much thought into how it could be worse, or even into convincing himself that this is actually bad, particularly when Reynir puts some of that conditioner into his hands and starts working it through his hair. It's only by biting the inside of his lip that he manages to restrain himself from making a comfortable little noise at the feeling of fingers moving through his hair, rubbing at his scalp, almost like a massage.

How long has it been since he was touched like this?

It's a subject he immediately turns away from; no amount of relaxing sauna additives can make it feel safe enough to think about that, and all of the memories connected to why he hasn't been touched like this in so long. More than a decade. Sighing a slightly long-suffering sigh, he closes his eyes and lets Reynir do what he likes with his hair.]

Mmm?

[It's just a hummed out response to Reynir's assertion that he should take the bottle to use later, and he exhales another sigh.]

I don't usually use conditioner. Waste of time.

[It's just a statement of fact. He doesn't even really realize how rude it sounds when said to someone with hair like Reynir's.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir knows hair - not just from tending to his own, either. Because his own hair was so long, and so neatly braided, the kids in the village had been coming up to him for years now and asking him to do theirs, too. So his fingers are deft as he finishes conditioning Onni's hair and begins splitting it into neat sections that he can braid it. One long braid like his own was never going to work for Onni's hair length, but he can do one that is closer to the scalp, curving diagonally down.

He lets out a little snort at Onni's, yes rather rude, comment. It's the kind of bluntness he's always liked from the other man, and it doesn't discourage him one iota. ]

You can't complain your hair is hard to work with and then turn around and say it's not worth spending time to maintain it.

[ Even as he lightly berates, Reynir's voice is warm and friendly, and it is so nice. Chatting like this, grooming one another, the heat of the sauna around them, carefree and together. He actually starts to hum a little as he works, one of the many songs he'd sing to himself when he was out herding sheep with no one to talk to but the dogs for hours on end.

He pauses in the song, adds: ]

Besides. We've got nothing but time, here. Why don't you try using it for a few weeks and see what you think. It should only take a couple seconds. You haven't got that much hair! With this stuff, you just leave it in, once you're done washing.

[ He finishes, the braid coiling to an end just under Onni's ear, the opposite side of his skull to where it began. Reynir pulls one of the little decorative tokens off the ribbon he had been using for his own hair, and it is plenty to secure the little tuft of hair left at the end. A few little tugs and touches to neaten up the finished braid, and he says, audibly beaming: ]

Done!