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redshiftlogs2019-10-05 10:00 pm
modblob) wrote in redshiftlogs2019-10-05 10:00 pm
october 2019. welcome to the void.
Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Fourth Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of October 2019
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.
What: Fourth Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of October 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. sini express delivery service.
There's something odd rolling through Anchor. Whether they wake with it next to their beds or find it sitting neatly in some corridor as if placed there just for them, characters will start finding items that are distinct and unique enough that they have to belong to someone. But where are they coming from? And whose are they?
The easiest way to find out is probably to walk around with the item held high yelling "Does this belong to you?" but that's not a good way to cover a lot of ground.
Don't worry, though! There's someone (something?) to help you. Chiming in periodically from communicators or intercoms across Anchor comes a voice that might sound a little familiar to anyone who made it as far as that spaceship wreckage in the wasteland. Softly laughing and humming, this some-one-thing will cheerfully coax characters in the right direction, giving tips and offering little clues to anyone who might be confused about whose item they have.
Characters struggling with identifying whose item they got might hear a helpful voice whispering out of their device as they move around the city - "Warmer, waaaaarmer...oh no! COLD!" They might hear a laughing voice coming out of a nearby speaker, giving tips or riddles about the person the item belongs to - "Her eyes are grey!" or "What kind of spider is sweet as pie?" Sometimes, it'll just be amused giggling at the efforts of those trying to find their object's owner. That bubbly voice is everywhere, encouraging residents to solve the riddle because "It'll be wooooorth it. Pinky swear!"
And no matter what, it can't be turned off or muted, and it doesn't respond to any direct attempts to communicate in return.
The easiest way to find out is probably to walk around with the item held high yelling "Does this belong to you?" but that's not a good way to cover a lot of ground.
Don't worry, though! There's someone (something?) to help you. Chiming in periodically from communicators or intercoms across Anchor comes a voice that might sound a little familiar to anyone who made it as far as that spaceship wreckage in the wasteland. Softly laughing and humming, this some-one-thing will cheerfully coax characters in the right direction, giving tips and offering little clues to anyone who might be confused about whose item they have.
Characters struggling with identifying whose item they got might hear a helpful voice whispering out of their device as they move around the city - "Warmer, waaaaarmer...oh no! COLD!" They might hear a laughing voice coming out of a nearby speaker, giving tips or riddles about the person the item belongs to - "Her eyes are grey!" or "What kind of spider is sweet as pie?" Sometimes, it'll just be amused giggling at the efforts of those trying to find their object's owner. That bubbly voice is everywhere, encouraging residents to solve the riddle because "It'll be wooooorth it. Pinky swear!"
And no matter what, it can't be turned off or muted, and it doesn't respond to any direct attempts to communicate in return.
b. flu season.
No one probably takes special notice, at first. It's a sniffle here, a cough or chill there. 'Tis the season in some universe, after all, and even the advanced decontamination process isn't completely flawless. But what starts as a tickle in the throat gets a little worse over the span of a week, or in some cases a lot worse.
Whether laid up for a few days or longer, afflicted characters can expect to feel a few consistent symptoms. Dizziness, lightheadedness, chills and fever, coughing and sneezing (that kind of sneezing that comes in annoyingly long bursts and makes you feel like you've shot your brain out of your nose).
Oh, and hallucinations. Mild ones! Nothing to write home about! (If you even could, anyway.) Hallucinations are the last stage of this mild interuniversal flu, an annoyance more than anything...
And it leaves some people immune, and some people even more susceptible to what might follow.
Whether laid up for a few days or longer, afflicted characters can expect to feel a few consistent symptoms. Dizziness, lightheadedness, chills and fever, coughing and sneezing (that kind of sneezing that comes in annoyingly long bursts and makes you feel like you've shot your brain out of your nose).
Oh, and hallucinations. Mild ones! Nothing to write home about! (If you even could, anyway.) Hallucinations are the last stage of this mild interuniversal flu, an annoyance more than anything...
And it leaves some people immune, and some people even more susceptible to what might follow.
c. harvestival festival.
Something good is happening in the agricultural sector. Weird, right?
But lo, the whole place has started to bloom seemingly overnight. Tiny fruits become noticeable, then large. Edible vegetation is flourishing, and you can tell which vegetation is edible thanks to the flocks, gangs, and small herds of creatures that have emerged from the still-wild depths of the sector. None of these creatures are aggressive except as a means to protect themselves when scared. Unused to strangers as they are, they'll probably let you get pretty close! Which means you could hunt them, I guess, or try to lasso and bring home some critters to the farm and fenced areas.
The food varies wildly. From electric pink berries the size of a pinkie to giant purple melons nestled in beds of vines. The tastes are as exotic and strange as the fruits themselves. A few people might even recognize some kinds of fruit from home. The root vegetables, squash, and edible vegetation is as colorful as the fruit, though a little more weirdly shaped. Why does that carrot-seeming thing look like a coiled spring? Who knows? You can't judge its life.
The culinarily inclined can take harvested goods to the kitchen areas and start experimenting, but beware! Even plants that look like they could be from Earth or other areas that the residents of Anchor know probably taste a little weirder or more intense than normal. Your best bet for a good recipe is to taste a little bit of everything before you get started. The spicy, the melony, the crunchy, salty, and sweet. There are no available records of what any of these things are, so you'll have to make it up as you go! The only consistent thing across all the agricultural sector's bounty is that NONE of it is poisonous. And none of it will get you high, Klaus and Kabal, so don't get your hopes up.
But lo, the whole place has started to bloom seemingly overnight. Tiny fruits become noticeable, then large. Edible vegetation is flourishing, and you can tell which vegetation is edible thanks to the flocks, gangs, and small herds of creatures that have emerged from the still-wild depths of the sector. None of these creatures are aggressive except as a means to protect themselves when scared. Unused to strangers as they are, they'll probably let you get pretty close! Which means you could hunt them, I guess, or try to lasso and bring home some critters to the farm and fenced areas.
The food varies wildly. From electric pink berries the size of a pinkie to giant purple melons nestled in beds of vines. The tastes are as exotic and strange as the fruits themselves. A few people might even recognize some kinds of fruit from home. The root vegetables, squash, and edible vegetation is as colorful as the fruit, though a little more weirdly shaped. Why does that carrot-seeming thing look like a coiled spring? Who knows? You can't judge its life.
The culinarily inclined can take harvested goods to the kitchen areas and start experimenting, but beware! Even plants that look like they could be from Earth or other areas that the residents of Anchor know probably taste a little weirder or more intense than normal. Your best bet for a good recipe is to taste a little bit of everything before you get started. The spicy, the melony, the crunchy, salty, and sweet. There are no available records of what any of these things are, so you'll have to make it up as you go! The only consistent thing across all the agricultural sector's bounty is that NONE of it is poisonous. And none of it will get you high, Klaus and Kabal, so don't get your hopes up.
1
Count me in, babe
*
[Scaramouche's face brightens inside his helmet as they pass a feature of the landscape he created: the tyre marks that were left by the jeep he drove out here recently. It copped a beating from the wind that day, ending with him being put on the back foot and having to reverse the thing all the way back to Anchor. It's the only evidence of one of his many failed attempts at making it out here on his own.
Soon, the marks in the sand are behind them. The crashed ship casts its shadow over them in no time.
Scaramouche alights the vehicle, all hopped up and ready to go. He's bombed enough solo attempts at making it this far (not that he cares to admit it) to let the radiation suit distract him from this triumph. He just has to make it work! Keeping a firm grip on the sheathed dagger that's lowered at his side (someone will have to slice off his hand if they want it in theirs), he moves farther into the crash site, the larger blade inside the scabbard on his back clanking against his suit with each step.
Once they're inside the wreckage, Scaramouche basks in the eerie ambience, smiling in spite of their grim surroundings and its terrible sights, smells, and sounds. Any light that shines through is eventually swallowed up by the darkness, and the number of robot corpses grows with it.
He does some heavy lifting of his own. He's hoping it won't be long before they find something useful to take back with them; anything that might help to get him on his way back to Earth.
They start to hear the faint echo of laughter and song.]
Wait, what's that?
[There's a slight smile in his voice. The bot straightens and turns his luminescent eyes to the pitch blackness ahead.]
no subject
That is until the creepy voices start, and Peter looks like he's about ready to jump back into the Jeep and wait for everyone to wrap this up. Ghosts are his least favorite thing, okay. You can't punch a ghost.]
That was the worst sound I've ever heard in my life.
...I guess we better investigate, huh.
[GOD he doesn't want to, but scientific curiosity wins over caution every time.]
no subject
No stalling, babe.
[He follows the sounds, his heels clicking on the twisted metal that makes up the floor. He still pays attention to the groans of the structure around them; this thing could cave in at any minute. There's a light flickering somewhere ahead. Artificial? A section of paneling blocks the way. He smooths his hand over its surface before gripping its side and giving it a pull, testing out the heft of it. It's at least four times the weight of his sword.]
Hey kiddo, will you lend me a hand?
[He could move it by himself, but an extra pair of hands will speed things up. The dagger isn't an option down here; an explosion, even a minor one, would send this heap crumbling down on them and wham. He would make it out in time, but it'd be bye-bye to his hopes of finding a functioning radar system or comm unit.]
no subject
He was absolutely stalling, but it's fine, he's got this now. He hurries over to give Scaramouche a hand with the paneling, sticking his hands right to it rather than looking for a spot to grip it.]
Okay, ready when you are.
[Peter could also move it by himself, but he's a big nerd who likes TEAMWORK okay. Don't judge.]
no subject
[The metal sheet rattles and screeches as it's lifted out of the way in five seconds flat. Not a bad effort! But does Peter get a 'thanks'? Does he hear a single word of acknowledgement? No. Scaramouche has bigger things on his mind right now than small talk.
The artificial light is faint, but it's bright enough to cut through the shadows. He calmly makes a beeline for it, ducking his helmeted head below a sunken part of the ceiling. The deeper they go, the more his face falls. This place is going to fall apart; it's just a matter of when.]
no subject
With each step, the apparitions get more and more coherent, the flickers of light coalescing into the form of a young woman, details difficult to make out besides the flow of long pink hair and the skirt of a long white gown. She moves ahead of them, to where a corridor branches off to the right, flickering against the wall, the laughter fading out into a soft sob.]
Help me, help me.
[The voice is soft, high-pitched, and she flickers off down the side corridor, suddenly a streak of light instead of a form.]
Won't you please?
no subject
Did you-- did you see that!? Should we follow her? We should follow her. I'm-- I'm gonna follow her.
[This seems like a terrible idea but goddammit he's gonna do it anyway here he goes.]
no subject
No running, all right? We don't want to start calling you-- [he brings the hand clenched around his dagger down on his open, flat palm for a quick illustration of what will happen if this ship collapses around them] --Pancake Parker.
[Scaramouche the Flattened doesn't have a nice ring to it, either. That's his only real concern here.]