november 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

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.

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 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?

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.

Navigation.

Comments

[benhargreeves]

[ When Allison says she's met people - more than one person! = who seems to really like him here, Ben is startled for a moment, then smiles, bashfully, ducking his head forward. He knows that he's made friends here, that there are people he considers very important to him. All the same, hearing it this way, from someone else, that he is liked? Overwhelming.

So much so that he has to joke, a little flustered still but recovering well: ]

Ah, see, that was my problem. I tried doing that with Russian literature, not magazines. Knew I went wrong somewhere.

[ Allison's smile when he compliments her acting is... complicated, but Ben doesn't push. Not for the moment. He does something more rare, at least in her experience of him, and reaches out to rest his hand on hers, lightly. Ben hadn't been very big on touch, before he died. Very strict about his personal bubble. But being intangible for fourteen years can sure change some things.

Quietly, with finality: ]

I mean it.

[ And he lets her hand go, then, just in time to look mock-offended at her next comment. ]

And just what are you implying about my sense of fashion? I happen to like black.

[ IT IS. LITERALLY. ALL. HE EVER. WEARS. ]

[hersay]

[ allison laughs, hoarse and breathy, at imagining ben actually learning how to talk to people from russian lit. she's not super familiar, and assumes that he must mean going around asking people for their hand in marriage or talking about how god is dead or we're all going to starve in the cold or whatever. absolutely riveting conversation.

allison is surprised at the touch, but she doesn't move away, doesn't startle. it's comforting, and it means so much, coming from ben, who never did all that much when he was alive. death, of course, was an even bigger separation. so allison turns her hand over, squeezing his gently, a wordless thank you. ]

You like black? I couldn't tell. Alert the presses!

[ allison types, with one expertly-raised eyebrow. ]

I'm just saying! You might like other colors too, if you gave them a shot.

[benhargreeves]

[ Something about that raised eyebrow, her timing when she turns the phone, the look on her face - it hits Ben's funny bone just in the right way, and he laughs hard, feeling joyous and so very, very happy to have his sister back. God, he'd missed this. He'd missed talking with her so much. Even if she is dragging him right now. ]

Okay, wow, uncalled for!

[ But then his giggles fade out and Ben grows more pensive, gives a little shrug. ]

I guess, maybe. To be honest I haven't really thought about it a whole lot.

[ For a while black had been a functional choice. Ben had died before he ever left the Academy and had a chance to develop any sense of personal style, himself. When he'd first arrived here, black was an obvious solution. It didn't require thought or matching or whatever, didn't draw attention, and most importantly, didn't show any bloodstains.

But this place had turned out to be not all that dangerous, and it's only been a few occasions when Ben has been grateful for the rather goth ensemble. He looks down at his hands, restlessly picking at a fingernail as he admits: ]

Klaus has joked about makeovers now and then but honestly I can't tell if he's serious or kidding, and I just know if I asked him he'd put me in super heavy makeup and something super revealing or uncomfortable and laugh it up. Even if he tried to be really really serious about it, I'm not sure... Klaus fashion is really.... Ben-suitable.

[ What Ben isn't saying is that he loves these clothes he has, that he wants to only wear them and that he's not open to anything else. He's just saying that he doesn't really want to dress like Klaus. Which, considering the kind of things their brother wears, can she really blame him? Ben is not a miniskirt kind of a guy. He's not a leather pants with a gap all the way up the sides and laces kind of a guy. ]

[hersay]

[ allison chuckles. that's what's been holding ben back? that he'd look like klaus? oh, ben, honey, you underestimate her! there could be something deeper going on, of course -- some global resistance to change, or something. allison wouldn't be surprised. but she also likes laughing with her brother, being lighthearted in a way that she hasn't gotten a chance to be in a long while. so she doesn't want to pry, not here. ]

I wouldn't trust Klaus with my makeover either. Guyliner and fringe definitely isn't the best way to celebrate your return to corporeal form.

[ allison plows into the next text without even thinking. she doesn't have to -- she's thought about what her brothers should be wearing for years. diego, luther and five could definitely all use this too. ]

Ok so I'm thinking of muted shades of off-white, gray, green, blue and maybe mahogany or brown to start. Earth tones but not too muddy you know? It'd be an easy transition from black and would match you well. Because everyone's gotta have a personal style, right? That's why Klaus and I dress so different -- different personalities, for one. Loose fitting tops and tailored pants could look good, although I don't know about the kinds of resources we'll have here, it's not like the bots have good fashion. Do you know anyone who knows how to sew? I'm sure we can figure something out, I'm not resting until you look great!!

[ was that an essay? yes. is allison excited for this in a fairly nerdy way?? absolutely!! ]

[benhargreeves]

[ Ben wrinkles his nose when he reads the word 'fringe', looks up at Allison and gives a little shake of his head. He loves his brother, flamboyant character that he is, but Ben just really does not understand Klaus's taste sometimes.

He waits while she types for what seems like forever, and then scrolls through her long message, taking in the details. He does his best to picture the colors she is describing and the cut of clothes - but his brain stops short when he's trying to imagine it on himself. Tentatively, Ben asks: ]

You... think I'd look okay, in that kind of thing?

[ It's... a lot more embarrassing than he'd anticipated even talking about this. All Ben's instincts telling him to just fade into the background, be as un-noticeable as possible, are kicking in. Won't he look like an imposter, if he tries to dress like he's some kind of sophisticated person? Won't it be immediately clear to everyone that he's just in the costume of a regular person, that he doesn't belong...?

Some of that anxiety translates to the movements of Ben's hands, picking at the sleeve of the robe and then coming up to touch the crying face mask, restless. ]

I - could try some stuff out, I guess. I've been doing my best to do that since I came here and all. Try new stuff I never got to, you know. Before.

[ The words are halting and tentative and Ben's half-convinced he's going to regret this and it will be a catastrophe, but... he's budging, a little. ]

[hersay]

[ allison doesn't respond through text to ben's question. instead she just nods emphatically. yes ben, that's why she said it.

honestly, allison thinks even a hot pink feather boa would improve the gloomy, uninspired fit he's got going, but allison knows that would just spook ben, and she's so close to making real change in ben's life that she definitely doesn't want to sabotage the whole project now.

allison notices ben picking at his sleeves, his tone of voice, the way he talks about trying new things, and it hits allison like a ton of bricks: ben is nervous about this. allison feels almost sorry for him. it's just nicer pants and a real shirt she's proposing, nothing scary at all! but allison can only imagine what it's like for ben, and she tries to do that now, tries to put herself in the shoes of a person who never properly left home until they were dead, and now after years and years, has a radically different life all at once. yeah, that's a lot.

so allison does her best to be reassuring, first removing her mask so ben gets a full view of her face, knows that she really means what she types. ]

I think you'll have fun. And if you're not having fun, we can stop and you can go back to wearing what's most comfortable. It's all about wearing what you want, and trying new things so you can know what you want.

[benhargreeves]

[ Ben can tell, of course, that he's being handled delicately. That Allison wouldn't take this level of care or need this level of patience, for somebody normal. He's a grown-ass adult, he shouldn't need help with this, much less help that comes with all these reassurances.

But... he does need it. He needs it badly, and it's clear how much her promises reassure him. Ben thinks half a minute and then nods slowly. He's game. ]

I mean, you're right. I guess the best way to know what I want is... test some stuff out.

[ And he will try to quash whatever part of his brain insists that doing so is pretentious, is silly, is not allowed. It'll be easier doing that if Allison is there to distract him. Maybe even easier with more people? Ben has a vague idea, makes a mental note to text Cho, later... ]

Thanks, sis. Seriously.

[ Not just for the offer of a makeover, but for the way she'd put it, for her kindness, for being here with him. Ben follows suit with Allison, washing off his mask, and... damn, she'd been right. He really does feel better, now. Though whether that's the oatmeal goop or his sister, who's to say? Probably both. ]