october 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

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.

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.

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.

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.

Navigation.

Comments

A.

[treadswater]

[ It's... It's been A Day. By the time the lamb arrived, Annie had been alerted to the current shenanigans, but there was receiving objects and there was... receiving a baby. An animal baby, sure, yes, she knows that, but still. A baby.

It's been...

Well. She's here, the lamb in a sling (formerly: her jacket) across her chest, her arms cradling the small creature protectively. Vulnerable position, this. She's distracted, by the lamb, the lamb's sounds (it's hungry, she's guessing, and she can't do anything about that), and the clues. Instructions. Taunts, whatever they are. ]

Oooh, no, you're getting cold, wait wait, warm, well done!

[ Annie really wants to take the device out and smash it. Instead, she keeps walking around with the lamb, taking each area systematically and watching the people around her in case anyone looks at the lamb with recognition. ]

BLEEEEEEH!!

[ Bleats the lamb, dangling its head over the side of the sling, collar showing. Annie looks around, seeing if anyone's reacted. Maybe... That tall man? ]

[braidmage]

[ It's just an instinctual reaction, at this point, for Reynir. He hears a lamb bleating, loud and distressed, and his head whips around to find where it is. He'd grown up tending to the flocks at his parents' farm; since he was hardly bigger than the lambs themselves he's been running off to find any of them that got lost or stuck or separated from the rest.

But it isn't a sound he's heard in this place, incongruous in the corridors of the Anchor. Reynir doesn't look at any of the people nearby, at first. His eyes are trained to the ground, to the level where the lamb might actually be. He is visible like that for a few moments, scanning the ground all around, a furrow of worry between his brows. Then, the lamb makes another, smaller noise, and he quickly responds to that, changing the direction of his search and actually looking up this time.

Which is when he spots Annie - he has spotted her around a few times but never come close to speaking with her - and sees the sling, and the little face poking out.

He walks closer without even thinking about it, but it isn't until he is just a few feet away that he actually notices the collar. At first he is just glad that this girl has had the good sense to affix a collar with a bell to a lamb as tiny as this one. That shows she has experience in dealing with caring for lambs. It looks like the ones they'd used at home...

Actually, it looks JUST like the ones they had used at home. ]

How old is it?

[ Normally he's much better at hellos and introductions and manners, but the lamb is so small, he can't imagine it's more than a day or two old. Where is its mother? ]

[treadswater]

Um.

[ It had taken some mental gymnastics and re-balancing for Annie not to back away as a functional stranger walks up to her. She's here, standing still, waiting for him to speak, but under her trousers, her knees are slightly bent in preparation for movement. For flight.

He asks about the lamb, which is fine, which is good. She hopes. ]

Young? I don't, uh, know animals. I'm better at fish? But like, I sorta know goats, so I guess... Little. Still all wobbly at walking? Has a tail?

[ She didn't know sheep even had tails. ]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir knows a lot about sheep, but he isn't particularly good at noticing small social cues from other people. So it sort of escapes him, that Annie seems pretty nervous and maybe about to bolt. He's too busy worrying about this little lamb and squinting at that collar. It really does look just like the ones they used at home...

His brow furrows when she admits she doesn't know how old it is and doesn't know animals well. Reynir glances up, then asks: ]

Can I - have a look at him? Make sure he's healthy?

[ Then, realizing belatedly perhaps he's being a bit rude, he explains: ]

I grew up on a sheep farm. I know lambs pretty well.

[ It's an understatement but he's not trying to boast, here. ]

I'm Reynir, by the way. Where's this little guy's mother, anyway? He sounds hungry.

[treadswater]

[ That he doesn't notice her nervousness helps. Not that she calms, exactly, but ignorance is better than awkward acknowledgement as far as Annie is concerned. Easier to focus on the situation at hand.

The situation, which squirms in her arms and protests, again, at this entire indignity. It is not lamb-approved. ]

I'm, I'm Annie. And I don't know? I mean. It, he? Just, just appeared. I'm guessin' like all the other things that have, have been appearing.

But, it's just him without his momma.

[ Which is a sad thought all on its own. ]

And! Yeah, uh, yeah, course you can look at him. Want me to put him down on the ground

[braidmage]

[ Reynir, completely oblivious to the thought that Annie is offering to put him on the ground so she won't have to get close enough to directly hand him over: ]

Good idea! I can check his balance, see how his legs are doing.

[ And without any sign of thinking it's a weird thing to do, or hesitation or awkwardness, Reynir just straight up lays down on the ground on his belly, beckoning for Annie to set the small creature down. He'll have a better angle from here to see how well he's walking, whether there are any issues that might indicate underlying health problems. It's all pretty much just second-nature to him by this point.

As she is moving to set it down, he says: ]

The collar looks like the ones we have. One of my brothers made them a few...

[ He trails off, because as soon as the lamb was in reach he pushed a little of that fuzzy wool aside and saw, clear as day, the marking on the leather that Bjarni had put there when he stitched the collars. It doesn't just look like it... ]

He is from my parents' farm.

[ Reynir's voice is all wonder and confusion, and he looks up at Annie, completely bewildered. ]

How...?

[treadswater]

[ She blinks at him. Not just once, but a couple times in quick succession and in utter bewilderment.

Being on the ground is bad.

It means you are vulnerable, means it's harder to fight back, survive. Her teachers at the Career Academy had always drummed into their heads, never be flat on the ground without a sentry.

But it puts her in a position of strength so that's okay, she supposes. Trying to ignore all the thoughts crowding her brain about how easy the man would be to dispatch like this, Annie squats down and gently takes the tiny lamb out of its makeshift sling. ]

I, um. Don't know? But, I guess, I mean. We were all yanked here, right? Why not other things?

[ Then, because she has a gentle streak a mile wide, ]

Is the baby okay?

[braidmage]

I guess you're right. It's just - surprising. Seeing something from home.

[ And it makes his heart ache in a way that it hasn't really before, thinking about his brother, his parents, that little house where he grew up. The village that he knows every corner of and the hills and the flock and all those lazy summer afternoons, his mother's cooking, spinning wool, his life.

He drops his gaze back to the lamb, humming a little to himself as he checks it out: He looks in its ears, at the eyes and nose, listens to its breathing, squeezes its middle, lifts the tail and feels the back legs, gently rubs its hooves and watches the way it toddles around. ]

He seems one hundred percent perfectly healthy. A little on the small side but strong and good balance.

[ The lamb gives another bleat, and Reynir knows what he is asking for. Looking up at Annie, he says: ]

He's hungry. Maybe we should... go to the kitchen so we can give him some milk?

[ At this age, nutrition would be very important for the little one. Reynir isn't sure yet of what's going to happen and if Annie is going to want to try to look after the lamb or whether she will let him take care of it willingly. But he's not leaving until he's sure this baby gets a proper meal. They can figure out the rest once that is taken care of. ]

[treadswater]

[ She looks at him. Looks at the lamb. Looks at the way Reynir handles the little thing, how sure his hands are. How he knows what to look for without hesitation and with a lot of care.

And then she smiles, more rueful than not. ]

I guess? Like I said, I don't really know anything about sheep. And... And he's from your farm? That makes him yours, right?

[ It's not that she wouldn't want to keep the lamb, all things considered. She does. It, he, is small and needs help, and there is so much in Annie which wants something to look after. Something which isn't only Finnick, something less complicated than her beloved husband.

But she's not going to keep someone from something of home. Particularly not something that is good, and something that is alive. It wouldn't be fair. ]

I, I can help, though? If you need it?

[braidmage]

I - would like to look after him, yes. Lambs are strong, but - if he gets hurt or sick, I'll know what to do.

[ Whereas, his words imply, Annie would not. He doesn't mean it harshly, but she'd admitted it herself. Reynir thinks they both know what is best. But he can tell when he glances up that the truth of it is making her a little sad. He adds: ]

But I would love your help, Annie.

[ He doesn't need the help, probably - he's used to taking care of a lot more animals than just one baby. But if Annie would like to be involved, of course he's happy to let her. The more the merrier, and she'd kept him safe up until now. That speaks well to how trustworthy she is.

Reynir scoops up the lamb, holding it against his chest firmly, the movements practiced and reassured. It gives one bleat of surprise as it is hoisted into the air, but then it settles, feeling secure in the tight grip he keeps on it.

And because he wants to make it clear he isn't thinking less of her for not having knowledge in this one specific area: ]

I wouldn't know the first thing to do for taking care of fish...