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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
"Oh shit." he says, shaking his head, and he gestures toward her bedroom, "You better go lie down, the last thing we need is an asthma attack on top of this bullshit. Come on, move move move, you lie down and I'll uh. Do my best to not make it worse."
A laugh, but he's actually kind of serious, because now that she mentioned it, he can hear the wheezing, the way her breath seems to go through a choke hold somewhere in her chest. It's not healthy and the worry is a little more pressing than the joking. Or his own illness.
"Your puffer doing anything for that?"
no subject
"Been hearing that... voice telling us to go to quarantine. Fuck that. Fucking shitty robot chased me down two levels before I could shake it." And she hadn't shaken it easily. In fact the effort had been what brought on the wheezing in the first place, and she hasn't been able to get rid of it. Julie sits on the edge of the bed and shakes her head.
"Was working at first, but not anymore. It's kinda terrifying to not be able to breathe for hours." There's an attempt to be jovial, but it doesn't stick. "Fuck. Your nose okay?"
no subject
"Wow, my face is making all sorts of disgusting fluids right now, why would you...whooaaaah, oof."
He topples into the bed beside her and lies down on his back. The room seems to spin around him. He can feel how hot she is beside him, like a cute little furnace person. It's not cute or funny, but he laughs a little anyway...there's a slight chance he might be delirious, just a little.
"Yeah no, nope, uh-uh, no quarantine for me, thanks. I've been dodging them all day. Man, I wonder if we can find someone who's not sick to go down to the medbay and get like. One of those ones with the steroids. I had one when I got bronchitis a few years ago and whoof, it did the trick."
A pause, because it's super scary to hear she feels like she can't breathe. For hours.
"My nose is fine."
no subject
"Good," she says eventually, and she gropes blindly to find a free hand of his to hold on to.
"You know, I'm really glad you're here." And she looks up to him, eyes slightly glassy with the feverishness of whatever fresh hell this virus is, and she manages to summon a smile. "I mean, seriously."
no subject
Julie's wheezing is very very disturbing, though, and he frowns a bit, reaches over and rests his hand on her stomach, just below her ribcage, his expression twisted into one of worry, his eyes soft.
"Julie girl, I'm worried. I'm gonna call Ben and get him to go pick out a puffer for you, they gotta have something at the MedBay."
A pause, just for a moment, and then he tilts his head into the pillow beside her, just looking at her profile, "Julie. I love you."
no subject
She's used to it. The scrawny kid who can't catch her breath. Just being calm and comfortable helps more than he might realise and she clasps her hand over his when he touches her stomach. A small cough rattles up when she tries to clear her throat again.
"Yeah, okay." Ben would do that. Probably be just as worried, because he was just like that, wasn't he? Anchor Dad. Julie smiles to herself at the thought, and Klaus' next words wash over her like something soft and warm.
So gentle, those words. Her heart stutters briefly against her ribs. She looks over to him, losing herself for a few seconds in those gorgeous eyes, and she brings up a hand to catch a dark curl between her fingers.
"I know, Klaus. I love you, too."
no subject
"He'll do it. Man, Ben is such an awesome brother. Right? He's the best."
When Julie looks over at him like that, with her eyes so soft and bright and her skin so warm and her cheeks pink and her mouth pink and she touches his face and his hair and she's so damn gentle, he gets a little flush of emotion, both warm and guilty, all at once. Pushing up on one elbow, he looks down at her with a bit of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
"Seriously, though. Like, I don't know if I said it right before, it's just such a...big feeling, you know? Fills you all up and makes you feel light and airy and warm and...wow, you're really pretty. You know that?"
He's not at his most coherent and he has a hard time expressing these kinds of things when he's at his best, so...this is probably completely befuddling.
no subject
Julie smiles faintly up at Klaus and lets her hand drop out of his hair when he moves, resting it on her chest instead. She searches his face silently as he hovers over her, and that tiny stutter turns into a swooping drop of sudden realisation.
"Wait..."
It's different. At least, she thinks it's different because he's talked to her sweetly before but never quite like this. Her shoulder shift and she looks up at him quizzically, an uncertain smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"You mean it, don't you? Like, for real?"