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

[braidmage]

[ Reynir blinks, surprised to hear that. He had always assumed that his friendship with Tuuri, real as it became, was entirely a result of proximity, and convenience, and circumstance. They both spoke a common language. They were stuck together a lot of the time. They had to work together, eat together, see each other day in and day out for such a long time. Anyone would get closer, given those parameters.

And Reynir knows he'd annoyed her when he first showed up. Kind of hard to miss that. So it had been easy to assume that, in a place where she had other possibilities for friendship, Tuuri wouldn't choose to be friends with him. ]

What kind of person is that?

[ Reynir wonders if Tuuri ever felt left out, not being a mage when it was so vital to Lalli and Onni's identity... he hopes that she hadn't. He hopes she realized just how special she was, for the gifts she did have.

He relocates himself and works on helping Onni get that next load sorted out and into the machine. His movements are slow with weariness, but he needs a bit of a distraction right now. Something to keep doing with his hands. ]

Oh, yeah. I don't blame her. It came out of nowhere for me, too. And she didn't know me all that well then.

[scowlish]

[When Reynir asks what kind of person it is that Tuuri liked to be friends with, Onni shrugs at first, his head still down. For a few moments, he thinks about it, about the friends Tuuri had and the fact that he hadn't stopped to tell any of them what had happened to her when he came back to Finland. Somehow, seeing how her death affected someone else who she considered a friend is making him think about how unfair of him that was.

Another thing to correct once they get out of this place. His list of things like that is getting so long.]

People like her, who are kind and cheerful and talk a lot, and who like adventure. Or people from different places who can tell her about where they come from.

[He pauses for a moment, holding one of Reynir's sweaters between his hands for a moment, before dropping it into the machine.]

Sometimes I wonder how we came from the same parents. We are very different.

[And then, abruptly, it hits him that he's talking about her in the present tense, like she's here, maybe back in the apartment with Kitty reading a book, or chattering on the network; or like she's in their own world, there in Keuruu for him to come home to. The realization is like getting punched in the stomach, it takes his breath away, and he drops his hands to the edge of the washing machine, looking down into it while he regulates his breathing, fights back the sting of tears as the loss of her hits him again, just as fresh as the first time he'd realized she was gone.

It takes him a few minutes to get himself under control, and then he exhales shakily.]

That's true. I'm still confused by how someone could be a mage their whole life and not realize, myself.

[braidmage]

[ Exhausted as he is, Reynir can feel his stomach do a little somersault when Onni describes him that way. Kind, cheerful, talking a lot, liking adventure. The part about him being from another place is a given, but is that how Onni sees him? As that person? Not someone selfish, someone impulsive and foolish, someone who doesn't know enough and puts himself in danger and makes stupid mistakes all the time?

He wonders if anyone has ever seen him quite like that. He doesn't think Tuuri did. Not completely, anyway. He knows that he annoyed her, too. That her enjoyment of him wasn't always paired with the... well, the respect that Onni's always shown him.

But then he catches it, right at the same moment Onni does. That present tense. We are very different and not we were. He sees the sadness of it coming over Onni like a tidal wave, and there's only one thing to do. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't pretend he didn't see it. He just moves quietly closer and, without a word, drapes his arms around Onni from behind him, holding him tightly. It won't go much, to help with that grief. He knows. But it's all he can do, and it's better than any words he could offer. And it had seemed to help Onni some in the past. So ... Reynir just hugs him, tight, breathing with him, not asking any questions or interrupting his quiet desolation.

It's only after Onni starts speaking again that Reynir responds: ]

You grew up surrounded by mages. They're rarer, in Iceland. There were no trolls for me to hear. I never went far from my village. Nobody knew what signs to look for. If I hadn't left... I might have gone my whole life without knowing.

[ He is still holding Onni against his chest, tight, even though it's stopping him from the laundry momentarily because Reynir has trapped his arms by his sides. But that laundry can wait a few moments more. ]

Siblings are often very different. It would be weirder, if you had been completely the same.

[scowlish]

[Of course, Onni sees those things in Reynir - his impulsivity and naivete and tendency to throw himself into danger. But those aren't the things he thinks of first when he thinks of Reynir. The Icelander has been around to take care of him when he was struggling often enough and had spent enough time chattering at him cheerfully and brightly that those are the things Onni associates with him now, far more than he even had at the beginning.

But right now, he's too lost in his grief to think too much about his perception of Reynir. At first, he doesn't realize how nakedly his emotions are showing on his face, but then the Icelander is coming up behind him, wrapping long arms around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides, holding him tight and close against him, from behind. Onni closes his eyes, relieved that Reynir isn't saying anything, asking him to verbalize what's going on in his mind. Reynir seems to just understand what he's feeling and offers comfort without question, doesn't mention it or bring it up, and there's something comforting and simple about that, the way Reynir doesn't ask too much of him.

And when Reynir does talk, it's about mages and how he'd gone so long without realizing he was a mage. Nothing to do with the tiny meltdown Onni had been on the verge of having, nothing to do with his red-rimmed eyes and hunched shoulders and raw grief. He just continues the conversation where they'd left off, still holding him, breathing against the back of his neck. He can feel the hair at the nape of his neck stirring with it, and there's something animal and comforting about it. Onni takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and manages to carry on without crying, without losing his composure.]

It does make sense when you put it that way.

[For a moment, he's quiet, and then he speaks carefully.]

Do you regret it? Leaving home like that?

[It's a loaded question, possibly unfair to ask him because of the what they'd just been taking about, Tuuri and the loss of her, but that isn't exactly the reason Onni is asking it.]

[braidmage]

Yes and no.

[ Reynir knows that Onni must be thinking of the similarity. Reynir running away from home, Lalli and Tuuri leaving him behind in Keuruu. There are differences he could try to point out: that they had wanted Onni to come with them, that the place Reynir came from was so much smaller and had so many fewer opportunities.

But instead he just hums softly, not letting go of Onni yet, and answers: ]

Leaving was the right thing to do. How I did it was wrong. I shouldn't have snuck out and only left a note. I should have had the courage to face my parents and tell them what I wanted, and stand up to them trying to convince me to stay anyway. I should've planned better where I was going, where I would stay, a safer way to travel and meet new people. I... know I was a burden, at first. To the expedition. I caused a lot of trouble for them, and my parents, and I hurt them more than I meant to.

[ That covers the no part; the yes is... trickier to word. ]

But... Brúardalur was suffocating me. I didn't even understand how much until I left. It. Is a beautiful place, and I will always love it, but if I had stayed any longer, it would have become like a prison without bars that I couldn't escape. And I... would've become a worse version of myself, I think. Sad and resigned and suspicious of anything different to what I always knew. Close-minded and. Just- less.

[scowlish]

[While Reynir explains his feelings about leaving home, and how he'd done it, Onni is quiet and listens, and slowly his body relaxes a little bit in Reynir's arms as he doesn't have to put so much effort into keeping himself from crying. It's a little easier not to do that while Reynir is explaining all the things he wishes he'd done differently when he'd left.

But then Reynir goes on to explain how his home had been suffocating him, how he'd loved it but how it would have ruined him and made him the worst version of himself. At that, Onni's stomach twists, the tension starts bleeding into his body again. His eyes sink closed and his fists clench at his sides, and he shakes just slightly.

That is something he is sure Tuuri felt, before she left. Stifled. Trapped. Incapable of escaping a place and a person who was doing nothing but smothering her and holding her back. The fact that she's gone now is unbearable, but the thought of having been part of that prison for her is almost as bad. Taking a shaky breath, he tries to make his voice come out stable and even when he replies.]

She must have felt like that. Trapped and smothered, stuck in Keuruu. It would have been better if I hadn't kept trying to push her to stay. That mission...it was a mess, and I knew it. Poorly-planned and under-provisioned, undertaken for all the wrong reasons. It was a disaster. I knew that. Maybe if I hadn't smothered her so much and made her think this mission was her only escape, she would've seen it that way too, and chosen something better so she could come home to me.

[And saying that, he loses the ability to speak again. Not crying, but close to it, his throat tight and closed off, his breath coming in sharp little too-shallow pulls, leaving his head spinning.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir feels that tension, hears the way Onni's breath shifts. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so honest. No point in regretting it now, though. Instead, he has to just do what he can, to keep his friend from falling apart. But at least, the small silver lining of this is that Onni is talking about it. He's saying what he's thinking, what he's feeling, rather than bottling it all up and pretending it isn't there. That's some progress.

Even if the thing he is thinking are so very grim and depressing. ]

... And maybe if you'd let her go sooner, on a mission that was well-planned and well-provisioned and seemed totally safe, something even worse would have happened to her.

[ They both knew what worse than death meant. She could have been infected, but in a way that didn't give her the option of killing herself and going on to the afterlife. Or she could have gotten stuck between life and death, like those agonized ghosts. There is worse, after all, than just dead. ]

And maybe if you'd forced her to stay in Keuruu, she and Lalli would've stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time and there could've been some accident and you could have lost both of them. We can't play the what if game, Onni. We might be mages, but we can't see all those possibilities. And I can't tell you how Tuuri felt, and you can't just assume it was exactly the same as how I felt.

[ Reynir squeezes tighter, exhausted to the bone but wishing so badly he knew the way to put all the broken pieces of his friend back into place, wishing he could hold them fast with a glue made up of nothing but sympathy and affection. ]

It's not your fault, remember? It's not your fault, and it's not my fault, and it's not Lalli's fault.

cw: mild suicidal ideation

[scowlish]

[Reynir counters his speculations with something else, that she might have gone on a better-planned, better-provisioned mission and still not come home, or that she might have been infected and not able to spare her soul. For a moment, Onni stands still with his hands tight on the edge of the washer, thinking about it, and wonders if maybe he was just meant to lose her no matter what. If maybe it was an inevitability, if maybe he was destined to suffer alone in this terrible world, too afraid to live and too afraid to die.

When Reynir goes on to continue talking about how he could have lost both of them, that feeling only intensifies for a moment, and he feels completely paralyzed for a moment. The whole life ahead of him seems like a yawning, endless thing that he will have to endure alone, and for a few seconds he doesn't want to.

But Reynir is still hugging him from behind, reminding him that it's not his fault, it's not Reynir's fault, it's not Lalli's fault. Lalli is still here. He still has Lalli to take care of, and so he's not alone. There is still family here, and Reynir, who isn't family but is certainly a friend.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and then exhales it, gets himself under control, and lifts a hand to squeeze at one of Reynir's forearms.]

Alright. Let's get this laundry done, then. I think I need to nap for a bit.