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redshiftlogs2019-11-01 09:49 pm
modblob) wrote in redshiftlogs2019-11-01 09:49 pm
Entry tags:
- !mod post: intro mingle,
- dragon age: cole,
- homestuck: aradia megido,
- hunger games: finnick odair,
- irredeemable: qubit,
- mcu: peter parker,
- mortal kombat: kabal,
- original: carlisle longinmouth,
- original: cho takahashi,
- original: elleru,
- poison: poison,
- red dead redemption: kieran duffy,
- ssss: lalli hotakainen,
- ssss: onni hotakainen,
- ssss: reynir arnason,
- umbrella academy: allison hargreeves,
- umbrella academy: ben hargreeves,
- umbrella academy: klaus hargreeves,
- warm bodies: julie grigio,
- yakuza: goro majima
november 2019. welcome to the void.
Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Fifth Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of November 2019
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.
What: Fifth Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of November 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. outbreak.
There's a plague in the city.
What was an annoyance before, a bug that seemed to be passing, has erupted into a full-scale biomedical hazard. Onset is slow. It’s a near mystery who is infected and who isn't, who is immune and who isn't. Doors lock themselves seemingly at random to prevent people passing through. Is that person with you one of the sick? How do you know? Would they tell you if they were?
The city will do its best to isolate the ill, once again locking them out of communal areas and trying to force them down toward the MedBay for quarantine. All bots will be temporarily shifted to plague protocols, rounding up and caring for the ill as best they can. (Lucky you, you get your cough syrup with a mixer courtesy of the barbot.) But they might not always get things right, and what healthy person wants to be locked away in a ward full of the violently ill? How do the bots even know which is which?
The ill will slowly find themselves dizzy, lightheaded, with chills and fever. They may cough hard enough to spit blood from irritated throats, or sneeze so long and hard they give themselves bloody noses. The symptoms can vary wildly depending on body chemistry, species, and dozens of other factors, making it difficult to pin down a specific set that indicates a person is infected. All bodily fluids are dangerously infectious. Maybe you want to keep your distance from your friends if you start to feel the onset, to keep them safe. But you also want to keep your freedom, not get trapped in a room full of people who seem to be dying. And anyone who was exposed to the first outbreak will find themselves either completely immune to this new one through early exposure...or far more susceptible, their immune systems doing almost nothing to protect them, with extreme symptom sets that hit them much harder than the average infected.
And through all of this, that voice that cheerfully chirped out helpful hints during the item exchange, that giggled and sang songs in the crashed spaceship in the wasteland can be heard again - but this time it's different. This time, there's very little cheer left, and though the commentary is still sing-song, it's much harsher, more monotone and without much energy. 'Go on, hurry up to the MedBay. No breaking quarantine!' it says, or to those moving through the city with friends, 'You must not like those people much, are you sure you want to get them sick?' In the depths of the worst of it, in the third week of the month, people may start hearing more of those 'helpful' suggestions - 'Maybe it would be better if we just left them out in the wastelands, you know? For the greater good and all...'
Mod Note: An NPC post will be going up next weekend onredshiftrp to supplement this prompt. Keep an eye out!
What was an annoyance before, a bug that seemed to be passing, has erupted into a full-scale biomedical hazard. Onset is slow. It’s a near mystery who is infected and who isn't, who is immune and who isn't. Doors lock themselves seemingly at random to prevent people passing through. Is that person with you one of the sick? How do you know? Would they tell you if they were?
The city will do its best to isolate the ill, once again locking them out of communal areas and trying to force them down toward the MedBay for quarantine. All bots will be temporarily shifted to plague protocols, rounding up and caring for the ill as best they can. (Lucky you, you get your cough syrup with a mixer courtesy of the barbot.) But they might not always get things right, and what healthy person wants to be locked away in a ward full of the violently ill? How do the bots even know which is which?
The ill will slowly find themselves dizzy, lightheaded, with chills and fever. They may cough hard enough to spit blood from irritated throats, or sneeze so long and hard they give themselves bloody noses. The symptoms can vary wildly depending on body chemistry, species, and dozens of other factors, making it difficult to pin down a specific set that indicates a person is infected. All bodily fluids are dangerously infectious. Maybe you want to keep your distance from your friends if you start to feel the onset, to keep them safe. But you also want to keep your freedom, not get trapped in a room full of people who seem to be dying. And anyone who was exposed to the first outbreak will find themselves either completely immune to this new one through early exposure...or far more susceptible, their immune systems doing almost nothing to protect them, with extreme symptom sets that hit them much harder than the average infected.
And through all of this, that voice that cheerfully chirped out helpful hints during the item exchange, that giggled and sang songs in the crashed spaceship in the wasteland can be heard again - but this time it's different. This time, there's very little cheer left, and though the commentary is still sing-song, it's much harsher, more monotone and without much energy. 'Go on, hurry up to the MedBay. No breaking quarantine!' it says, or to those moving through the city with friends, 'You must not like those people much, are you sure you want to get them sick?' In the depths of the worst of it, in the third week of the month, people may start hearing more of those 'helpful' suggestions - 'Maybe it would be better if we just left them out in the wastelands, you know? For the greater good and all...'
Mod Note: An NPC post will be going up next weekend on
redshiftrp to supplement this prompt. Keep an eye out!b. gone to shit.
With 90% of the city's bots repurposed to serve the ill (the matchmaking bot being the notable exception), things are starting to go downhill fast elsewhere. Didn’t realize how much work the bots were actually doing? You can't avoid knowing now.
Restaurants, slowly coming back online after the increased activity in the agricultural areas, are promptly shut down again with things starting to go bad in the fridges. The VR rooms have no attendants to help with glitches. The maintenance bots are prowling the halls looking for ill people to assist to the MedBay. The spa bots are all down in the lower levels helping keep people comfortable while they convalesce, leaving the spas to run themselves. Sometimes to overflowing. It's definitely going to be an adventure discovering what else the bots were doing to keep things running smoothly.
There's no bots manning the bar (make your own drinks while you can), but this also means there are no bots cleaning up the messes people leave behind in the bar either. The detritus of people living their lives starts to pile up - which means if you don’t want garbage filling up the most used common rooms, you're going to have to apply some good old elbow grease. Exactly what you wanted to do while everyone is violently ill, right?
Restaurants, slowly coming back online after the increased activity in the agricultural areas, are promptly shut down again with things starting to go bad in the fridges. The VR rooms have no attendants to help with glitches. The maintenance bots are prowling the halls looking for ill people to assist to the MedBay. The spa bots are all down in the lower levels helping keep people comfortable while they convalesce, leaving the spas to run themselves. Sometimes to overflowing. It's definitely going to be an adventure discovering what else the bots were doing to keep things running smoothly.
There's no bots manning the bar (make your own drinks while you can), but this also means there are no bots cleaning up the messes people leave behind in the bar either. The detritus of people living their lives starts to pile up - which means if you don’t want garbage filling up the most used common rooms, you're going to have to apply some good old elbow grease. Exactly what you wanted to do while everyone is violently ill, right?
c. dance of the moonlight jellies.
In spite of everything going on elsewhere in the colony, something magical is happening in the lakes and ponds of the park. Maybe your healthy or recovering character stumbles across it on their own. Maybe they see the glow from a higher levels and are drawn down to it. Maybe a persistent and super helpful voice, the same voice from the item exchange, the same voice that suggested throwing the sick out into the wasteland, suggests that you should go down and look at what's happening there.
However you ended up in the park, the place is filled with a silvery glow that emanates from the ponds, rivers, and lake. Fish have come up from the bottom, from where they were buried under the sand. They look almost like East Asian dragons, for those familiar with Earth. They're long, muscular, with two sets of fins trailing in the water like legs. Their heads are delicate, beautiful things that trail whiskers in the water along beside them.
And they're dancing.
In loops and whirls, over and under each other, diving deep and then rising up again to create patterns of light and shadow. Anyone who watches for more than a minute can start to feel relief moving through them, calm, the sense that things will be okay. Watching the dance is almost like meditation. Probably, for some, a much-needed break.
However you ended up in the park, the place is filled with a silvery glow that emanates from the ponds, rivers, and lake. Fish have come up from the bottom, from where they were buried under the sand. They look almost like East Asian dragons, for those familiar with Earth. They're long, muscular, with two sets of fins trailing in the water like legs. Their heads are delicate, beautiful things that trail whiskers in the water along beside them.
And they're dancing.
In loops and whirls, over and under each other, diving deep and then rising up again to create patterns of light and shadow. Anyone who watches for more than a minute can start to feel relief moving through them, calm, the sense that things will be okay. Watching the dance is almost like meditation. Probably, for some, a much-needed break.
no subject
The robots insisted on taking her to the Medbay right away, and Ami didn't argue. It took another half an hour to stop the nosebleed. So now she feels vaguely feverish and her nose is all plugged up, and she wants nothing more than to blow it, but she's under strict orders not to do that for 24 hours.
Now the medbay bots want her to stick around so they can do more tests or something. Ami's quietly allowing it, even if they do make her nervous. So she's waiting in an exam room for them to come back, when suddenly, she hears a loud crash, and an expletive in a familiar voice.
"Kieran?" she calls.
She hasn't seen him in over a week, and in fact she'd been thinking to go upstairs and say hi to him, before her nose decided to ruin her plans for the day. What's he doing here? Forgetting all about the robo-docs, Ami hops off the exam table and scampers toward where she heard the noise. It's not far, and it's impossible to miss - he's on the floor next to a knocked-over supply cart.
"Kieran! Are you okay?" she exclaims, grabbing his arm to help him up. Her stomach twists as she notices the bandages over his eyes. That... that's not what it looks like, right? He was just playing piñata in the Medbay and forgot to take his blindfold off, right?
no subject
He can feel his cheeks and the tips of his ears burning. Of all people to find him, it had to be Ami. She's a sweet kid, sure, but that somehow makes it all the worse that he now has to explain why he's fallen. Kieran knows he couldn't hide his new situation from everyone forever, but to have someone, a friend no less, find out like this is mortification incarnate. He turns his face away from where he suspects Ami is based on the tug on his arm and her voice.
"I'm fine. Really. J-Just, uh, didn't--"
'Didn't see it.'
"--didn't watch where I was goin'."
That's not much better.
no subject
He's big enough that she can't pull him up without his help, but she doesn't let go of him, either... just taps him on the shoulder.
"Kieran, I'm over here."
(Okay maybe just one goof.)
no subject
"O-Of course! Yeah, s-sorry about that. Guess somethin' else caught my attention fer a bit there."
He's totally not lying, Ami.
Totally.
Not lying.
He is entirely honest.
no subject
"... Look. I- Listen." Wow, it is really hard to avoid idiomatic references to sight, isn't it? "It is pretty obvious you can't see right now. Let's just put that on the table where we can both... interact with it. Okay?"
no subject
"Sure."
He hates every single passing moment of this interaction (except Ami, herself, of course) and he wants nothing more than to curl back into his hospital bed and start the day over again. Kieran stands up straight, hugging his middle now that he's not sure what to do with his hands. Clearly, the room's changed, so feeling his way around isn't going to do any good for the moment.
"Didja... didja have any questions?"
no subject
"Questions?" she repeats, incredulous. "What kind of- what do you think I'm gonna ask? 'Hey, Kieran, what's it like not being able to see?'"
A wisp of a memory strikes her - 'you are just asleep. you are also blind!' 'h0ly shit, i can't see!' 'yes thats what being blind means' - but she shakes her head clear and reorients herself. Medbay. Kieran. Right.
"Sorry. Um. What room are you in? I'll help you back," she says, gentler.
no subject
Ami's answer was a bit more snappish than Kieran was expecting, and his brow visibly furrows just above the bandages covering his eyes. He frowns and murmurs a quiet "Sorry." before she continues.
He relaxes when Ami apologizes, "I, uh, I think they said Room 3? It ain't far or anythin'. At least, I don't think it is."
Instinctively, he pulls in the direction he thinks is right. To his credit, he's not entirely off, but he definitely needs that extra guidance.
no subject
Once inside, she lets him get himself oriented, but she's reluctant to let go altogether; after all, she did just find him tripping all over everything a minute ago. "I'm sorry," she says again, belatedly. "I shouldn't have gotten all snippy with you there. I just - I know I ask too many questions sometimes, and I do have some, but..."
She didn't think she was that bad, you know? She's been trying really hard to be less nosy. Only as she's saying it, she realizes she's kind of making this about herself, which is also something she wanted to avoid.
There's a tickle in her throat, but she clears it. "Tell you what. How about we just go back in time a little bit, and pretend we just ran into each other in here, and nobody fell over and nobody said anything dumb and we'll start over. Okay?"
no subject
Kieran settles himself so he’s sitting on his bed (if he spends any more time laying down in it, he swears he’s going to flip out), head tilted in the direction of where he last heard Ami’s voice. He’s quiet for a few moments, doing his best to take in their current situation and all of the factors that led up to it. Then, one question arises in his mind.
“What were you doin’ here, anyway?”
It’s clear that Ami didn’t come here to visit him specifically—not that he holds it against her. As far as he knows, news of what happened to him hasn’t really spread just yet, and he doesn’t exactly expect everyone he knows to check in on him at every given moment. People have their lives, just as he has his. That being said, Ami must have had a reason for coming to the Medbay that wasn’t, well, this.
no subject
"Me?" she asks. "Oh, it's - I had a nasty nosebleed at breakfast, that's all. The robots started freaking out about it, sooo here I am."
She's also probably coming down with something, but that's not really a big deal. Last time she got over it in like, two days. It's probably nothing to worry about. Anyway, it's small potatoes next to what Kieran must be going through.
"Are they treating you all right here?" she adds, ready to change the subject. "Do you need me to smuggle in some OJ for you?"
no subject
"They're treatin' me real well," Kieran smiles, "and you don't hafta smuggle a thing. They'll get it fer me if I just ask nicely. It's kinda nice. I feel like one of those rich folks who got servants in their house or somethin'."
Sure, it'd be nice if the circumstances surrounding this newfound privilege were different--a lot different--but he's gotten pretty good at finding the silver lining in even the crappiest of scenarios.
"If, uh, if I'm gonna be honest, though... I really can't wait to leave. I ain't sure where I'm gonna go, but I can't stay here doin' nothin'. Not with people gettin' sick and needin' help."
He needs to be useful somehow. He's not sure how, but he has to at least try.
no subject
"Are you sure?" she asks. "I mean... I wouldn't want to go back to work right away, if it were me. Anyway, you've got a pretty sweat deal going on here. All these robots waiting on you hand and foot, like you're a dude on Butler Island."
no subject
Kieran trails off and rubs the back of his neck. How can he put into words that innate need to prove that he has worth, and how back home, the only real way he had to do that involved putting as much backbone into his work as possible. Whether it was cleaning tables or taking care of horses, it seemed like the only way he could get into anyone's good graces, or show he wasn't a waste of space, was to get something done.
And sitting here... as much as he joked around about how it made him feel like one of those rich folks, those were exactly the type of people the gangs he fell in with were so against. It feels wrong, almost, to revel in little luxuries, no matter how well-deserved.
"...I-If I ain't doin' anythin', then that means I ain't contributin'. If I ain't contributin', th-then all I'm doin' is takin'. I can't do that. I can't just be a waste."