december 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Sixth Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of December 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. the generic holiday cheer prompt.

It's a dark, quiet, uneventful night. Only those up and about in the wee hours will notice something odd starting in the park.

It's snowing.

The phenomenon seems to be coming from a small bank of unmoving clouds hanging suspended above the trees and lake. A cloud that, upon closer inspection by any scientists in the room, appears to be made of harmless nanites whose sole purpose is to unleash a cheery, blustery kind of weather that remains mostly contained to the park.

Some bots are out serving hot chocolate, cider, flavored snow cones, and other small baked treats. Others are building a solid-looking bit of scaffolding that the snow is rapidly turning into a sledding ramp. In fact, there are sleds ready and waiting at the foot of the slide. The smaller ponds have frozen over in a sharp cold snap that came with the nanites' release, and there are other bots handing out ice skates - careful, though, because one of them is a chef bot and he's made the blades of the skates ridiculously sharp. At least they'll glide well?

Around the middle of the day, the intercoms squeal loudly, crackle, and start pouring generic seasonal music out into the air. Is it for Hanukkah? Christmas? Kwanzaa? Some strange holiday no one has heard of? Who knows, since half of it is in alien languages, but man, it sure is peppy! And kind of annoying after a while! Maybe someone should hack the system and change the music up?

b. the body heat trope prompt.

As the day wears on toward evening, the nanite winter storm starts to gather a little more force, sending cold seeping through the halls of Anchor. There are pockets of warmth here and there - notably, for once, the agricultural areas are largely unaffected thanks to their temperature regulators--but most of Anchor has a wintery chill, and snow is starting to bluster across the levels from bottom to top. Temperatures continue to drop when the suns go down.

The bots are out being helpful, though they can't stop the storm. They're rolling around handing out blankets and thermoses of warm drinks. Unfortunately, it's one blanket and one thermos per two people. Better get cosy - it's going to be a long, cold night!

c. the terrifying monster attack prompt.

The cold has woken up some creatures that have been slumbering away in one of the sealed-off areas of the labs. They couldn't get through the door that kept them caged, but they sure could freeze the windows and escape that way when they got cold enough to break. The little critters make a beeline for the park, prepared to wreak havoc-

If eating snow and ice and rolling snow into tiny balls for meal stockpiles is havoc.

These little creatures look conspicuously like the western dragons of Earth, though most are no bigger than a person's forearm. Their wings - some strange shade of white that sparkles when they move - seem largely decorative. They use them to communicate, to posture, and to keep themselves balanced when they rear up on their hind legs, but none of them appear able to fly. They're a mix of colors, blue and silver and white, some of them with a variety of shades swirling down their bodies, others with one color on their bellies and contrasting colors on their back and head. Some have splotches, or speckles, or tiger stripes of blue. They breathe steam and can freeze things with their clawed forepaws.

Also, if you feed them a flavored snow cone, they will follow you forever. No, really. You'll have yourself an undyingly loyal new pet.

Navigation.

Comments

Hanzo Shimada | OTA

[nockturnal]

Arrival

He believes it be a trick, at first. How could he not? To suddenly come to in such a place, to be told there is no way out but he is welcome just the same, it makes no sense that he can rationalize. There is also the condition of the room, the cracked and dusty glass. It is a place that has seen neglect, certainly no measure of supervision or maintenance that he can see.

He is very apprehensive when it comes to surrendering his weapons in order to undergo the decontamination process.

It is only knowing that they could have taken them at any time, while he was unconscious and unaware, that keeps him from stubbornly holding fast to them. Some measure of cooperation is clearly expected and perhaps even necessary. So surrender them he does, his expression grave all the while. But no attack comes while he is unarmored and defenseless -- or as defenseless as they could ever make him -- and so he is merely left with a feeling of unease as he gathers his clothes and belongings after.

Anchor, they called it. So it seems that he is to be anchored in place, and his days of roaming the world like some fleeting shadow are done. Perhaps it was time. He had not seen fit to remain in one place for very long in some time. Years, in fact.

So. Time then to venture into the colony proper, and see what would be made of his time here.

The first glimpse did not seem promising, although given the condition of the room he'd woken in that was perhaps to be expected. The air is thick with dust and uncomfortable to breathe. Lifting his sleeve to cover the lower half of his face in a makeshift mask, he presses on. Perhaps there is someone to be found on the lower levels of...whatever is left of his place.



a. the generic holiday cheer prompt.

It's a surprise to see the lower levels are as hospitable as they are. It's even more of a surprise to find a lush park at the bottom level, and to find a small collection of clouds just...snowing. For no discernible reason. Nowhere else can he see such a phenomenon, and its source seems just as mysterious as the rest.

Hanzo looks mildly bewildered for a moment before deciding a frown is the best response, turning his attention elsewhere.

Childish frivolities are not his concern right now. Finding out what is happening, where he is, and what to do next are the main concern. But...those cups of hot chocolate do look rather tempting.

He may stop to have one, thank you.



b. the body heat trope prompt.

The warm drink is more of a boon than he would have first thought. As the day bears on, the temperature only appears to be dropping further and further. And the clothes he had been wearing upon first arrival aren't incredibly suited for cold weather.

Fortunately, there was a jacket in the bag that he'd brought with him. A spare change of clothes meant for extended travel, lucky in hindsight. But even that only provides a moderate amount of warmth, given that before long he can see his breath in the air. Supplies are being handed out by the bots, but only to pairs of people.

And Hanzo is alone, as ever.

With a derisive sniff, he simply finds somewhere comfortable to bunker down for the time being, taking a swig of his sake bottle to feel a little warmer for the time being, and conserving his energy. Exploration for a solution to the cold can wait until the sun rises again. Hopefully he does not freeze to death before that happens.

What an ignoble end that would be.

A

[braidmage]

Do you know what's relatively difficult to find in a post-apocalypse where importing and exporting basically went off the table a hundred years ago? Chocolate. It's not unheard of, but it's quite expensive and easier to get hold of in the city than in a tiny village like the one Reynir had grown up in. Besides, it wasn't like his family was exactly like Emil's... they lived comfortably but they were still sheep farmers, and that didn't leave a lot of extra money lying around for frivolities.

Which is maybe why Reynir is lingering near the hot chocolate looking absolutely over the moon. He's clutching a steaming mug of the stuff between his hands when Hanzo comes over to grab some. Sorry, was he trying to do that quickly and nonchalantly, without any social interaction? Not anymore.

"It's so delicious, isn't it?"

Reynir beams at this total stranger, just wanting to share a bit of that Chocolate Happiness™ with him.

[nockturnal]

The warmth and friendliness rolls off Reynir where he stands, like light from a lamp.

Hanzo doesn't trust it, naturally.

There is only a soft hum of agreement, before he lifts the cup to his lips and blows, briefly. Then, only then, does he venture a sip. It is delicious, as he says, not too sweet but rich, with a warmth that settles deep in the belly. The first bit of true comfort since he's woken up in this strange place.

Quietly, he attempts another sip, slowly as not to burn his tongue.

[braidmage]

Luckily (?) for Hanzo, Reynir has become something of an expert at befriending uncommunicative grumps. It's practically a hobby of his. So he seems entirely unbothered by this cold reception to his friendliness, stands there happily sipping at his chocolate and seeing the way this stranger seems to really be enjoying his, as well. He lets a few moments of silence pass before trying again:

"Did you see they're handing out ice skates over there? I was thinking about going and trying it later, but it's been a really long time since I skated and I'll probably just end up falling over a lot. Still, could be fun, right? Do they do a lot of ice skating where you're from?"

Wherever that might be. Reynir knows how this place works so it could be another planet or thousands of years in the future or the past. Hell, he could come from one of the same worlds and times as one of Reynir's friends in this place! Wouldn't that be funny.

[nockturnal]

Yes. Wouldn't that be funny. Hilarious, in fact.

Hanzo makes a non-committal noise before lowering the drink somewhat. "It is a common enough hobby, I suppose," he responds, not unkindly.

Not that he'd ever had time himself for frivolity of that nature. His entire upbringing had been centered around taking his place as head of the clan. Unlike Genji, who'd freely wandered off to the city to play in the arcades, or otherwise do as he pleased. Perhaps Reynir was simply asking the wrong Shimada.

[braidmage]

The words themselves might not be the most encouraging, but it's not like Hanzo is telling him to go away or asking why he keeps talking to him. Some people are just shy! Perhaps he is one of those people. Reynir certainly can give him that benefit of the doubt. He nods to Hanzo's response, sipping his hot chocolate before venturing another question:

"Have you ever tried it before?"

Just because it's common doesn't mean everyone has gotten an opportunity to participate! If that's the case for Hanzo, Reynir is all ready to give him instruction and encouragement as needed. Or maybe he was a world champion at it and he's just being modest! Who even knows.

[nockturnal]

'Shyness' is not something he could be accused of. Surely that would equate to some sort of fear, or lack of confidence, and thus could hardly be the case. One does not grow up expected to lead a criminal empire and retain such a trait.

But there is the sense that Hanzo...isn't sure sure what to do with this forward, friendly exuberance Reynir is showing him. Other than view it with suspicion, as one does with all unfamiliar things.

"No. There was no need." Again, the reply is somewhat stilted. But it lacks any true bite of hostility.

So no, Reynir is not being run off quite yet.

B

[arcadedragon]

Hiding in his room may not be the best option for staying warm, but that's what Genji has chosen to do. Unfortunately, the ninja is chilled to the bone and his armor is not especially effective at keeping him toasty. In fact the metal encasing him is absolutely freezing. Stubbornly he refuses to remove any of it even in the privacy of his own room. Piling blankets on top of himself doesn't really work as any heat he generates that could have been captured in the enclosed space is sucked away by the metal alloy of his armor.

His current plan is to bring soup back from the dining hall and warm himself from the inside out. That seems like a tenable solution to this.

It's a good thing he's screwing the top on a container of steaming soup as he rounds the corner because he nearly drops it.

The outfit is strange, he doesn't recognize the jacket, but the man is familiar and for a moment Genji is frozen by more than just the temperature. He'd rehearsed what he'd say to Hanzo if he saw him again so many times, but now that he actually sees his brother in the flesh every carefully chosen word evaporates from his mind left with a mixture of fear and bitterness and betrayal and confusion. What is he doing here? How did he get here? What has he been doing since.. since...

It takes a while for Genji to manage to find his voice, "Hanzo?"

[nockturnal]

The metallic voice rasps in his ears, but moreso the fact that whoever had just spoken knew him. Hanzo's dark eyes flicked upwards, taking in the figure staring at him, mostly metal like some omnic, or one of the robotic servants down below. Perhaps one of them had been sent by someone here, who understood what was happening or why he had been delivered to this strange place.

"Yes? What do you want?" The response is utterly dispassionate, and he shows no sign of moving as of yet. Why should he? Whoever or whatever has found him here, they haven't presented a compelling enough reason for him to take to his feet.

After all, how could he know who resided within that shell?

[arcadedragon]

"What do I want?" his voice incredulous. Behind the mask his eyes narrow, the confusion at seeing him here dropping away and for a moment nothing but rage wells up inside him. Since when did his brother care what he wanted? Never. That's what had gotten them into this situation to begin with.

Unconsciously Genji's hand goes to tighten around the hilt of his wakizashi, a few brief moments where all he wants is to attack him. But eventually he relaxes and straightens up, realizing how utterly ridiculous it looks to have one hand around his sword and the other holding a container of soup.

"I do not want anything from you." possibly the biggest lie he's ever told, but in the moment, right now, he almost wants to run away. He'd waited for years to confront Hanzo, and now an opportunity presents itself and he finds he's not ready. Maybe he needs another decade of meditation.

There's a very clear way to get out of this as Hanzo obviously has no idea who Genji is. He could keep up the pleasant niceties and never reveal himself truly. Maybe that would be better for both of them. "How long have you been here?"

He's stalling, unsure what to do and wanting more than anything to disappear.

[nockturnal]

Hanzo's gaze follows the motion of Genji's hand to his weapon, and suddenly the chill runs deeper than flesh. Adrenaline spikes, and for a moment he feels just a little warmer as a result. It is little comfort.

He has no reason to hold back, of course. He could answer him plainly. But living on the run from the assassins his family has sent after him has made him more cautious over the years, more reluctant to share any more than he strictly needs to. And with a hand on his weapon, this...whatever he is, could easily be one of them. If he knows his name, the likelihood increases.

"For someone who does not want anything of me, you ask many questions." Hanzo's fingers and uncurl slightly, stiffened from the cold, but he could move with speed if needed. Thankfully the jacket hides the coil of muscle seconds before he moves, hurling said jacket forward and seizing his bow.

It's reflex to have an arrow ready and nocked, and Genji has a split second to react before Hanzo decides whether or not to let it fly.

[arcadedragon]

"Will this become another lecture?" The words are out of his mouth before he even really thinks about what he's saying. Strange how that annoyance is still present a decade later, as if that's somehow even something to hold against Hanzo considering, well, everything else.

In an instant he tosses the soup to the side, the plastic container bouncing and rolling against the wall without spilling open. Not that even a single shred of his attention is on the soup as he pulls his wakizashi and holds it defensively in front of him, ready to deflect that arrow right back at his brother.

No. Not that. To the side. He had too many things to say, grievances to air, before they got back to killing each other.

"We do not have to fight." He doesn't falter from his stance, fully willing to do so, but his voice is slightly lower than it had been before. "I would prefer we didn't."

There's a very real part of him that wants to beat Hanzo bloody. To get some semblance of revenge even though in the end he knows it won't make him happy. It'll make it worse. But he can't deny he considers it, if only to prove that he is not second best, that he can hold his own.

Hanzo won't win a second time.

[nockturnal]

To his ears, it sounds like a request for surrender, not a truce. The moment he lowers his weapon he is at this man's dubious mercy, and he cannot allow that. There's no strain visible even as he holds the bow taut, staring at the blade now drawn and held at the ready.

The huff that escapes him fogs in the cold air. "You imagine an easy victory. Your masters should have told you who your quarry was." And rather than shoot directly at him, he adjusts his aim. Fires at a nearby wall, only for the arrow head to splinter and ricochet in several pieces.

High ground. He needs to reach higher ground, and his eyes dart past the figure in front of him for any path that might lead upwards in the complex.

A

[abheirrant]

The one other fellow in the park at that moment spots Hanzo at the same time Hanzo spots him, stiffening in surprise as their respective gazes cross paths.

"Oh!" Carlisle gives a polite dip of his head, not a full bow so much as a vague acknowledgement. "Oh, I didn't realize anyone else would be here at this time of day. Early morning and what have you." He'd been hoping he wouldn't find anyone else, as he's mostly been holed up in his room for the past few weeks, trying to get his energies back in order while avoiding everyone he could possibly burden with his presence or injure with a wild bout of necrotic rot -- and that's just about everyone in Anchor, really.

But he's here and been spotted now, so he tries to act as human as he wishes he was. "I don't believe I've seen you. Probably understandable, though there aren't many people here, so someone new does, ah. Stick out."

[nockturnal]

There is a brief frown as Hanzo considers the man who'd greeted him. Odd fellow, so he seemed, but not a threat. Not yet, anyway. Some part of him relaxes ever so slightly as he lifts his chin. "Hn. You are not wrong. I have only just arrived."

And if he were part of whatever or whoever was responsible for bringing him here, that would not be news to him. It costs him nothing to offer that much.

He cannot help but feel there is a strange air to the man, beside his manner. But it is nothing certain, nothing he knows what to do with.

[abheirrant]

Oh, he is new, and not just someone Carlisle has managed to miss by being an utter recluse.

"Ah. We were all new, once. I have been here for months now. It has not been entirely pleasant, but the snow is new. Nice, even."

He attempts to offer the man a smile, but it's not easy when he's wearing a mask. Enjoy how his eyes crinkle slightly.

"My name is Carlisle Longinmouth."

[nockturnal]

Fortunately, expressions over the cover of face masks is not something new to him. Hanzo sees it for what it is and nods, slightly.

"Hanzo."

No need to mention his family name, lest the clan have spies even this far out. He hasn't fended off one of their assassins in some time, but there's no reason to tempt fate.

"This is unusual, then?" he remarks, eyes turning towards the isolated cluster of snow clouds currently churning out white flurries as they speak.

[abheirrant]

"Very." His glowing eyes trail upward, inspecting the clouds themselves. He has no doubt something within Anchor made them -- likely the constructs, if he had to guess -- as sudden snow clouds isn't likely to be a natural occurrence, other world or not. He puts out a gloved hand; the flakes land on the quilted fabric, but do not melt, betraying the lack of warmth from the man wearing them.

"I won't say it isn't a nice change, though," he admits. "The park tends to be peaceful. Not so much with the constructs around" — he gestures toward the little robots making cocoa, one carrying no less than fifteen mugs in a tall, wobbly tower — "but as long as they are occupied, I will enjoy the snow. I have not seen any since I left home. Long before than, actually."

[nockturnal]

"Did you purposefully travel to this place?" It seems hard to believe. But perhaps he'd been taken on his travels, as Hanzo had. But it's the mention of home that softens his normally rigid expression for a moment, and he watches the snow collect quietly on Carlisle's glove.

He too had not seen snow since leaving home. The memory of Hanamura coated in fluffy white, the landscape pristine and serene, tugs at him briefly. It is a feeling he quietly pushes down and shoves aside, for now.

B

[redwinekindofgirl]

There was a point, while she was meandering her way around the levels of Anchor, where she managed to come across one a bot that decided she looked as if she needed a blanket. Julie hasn't been using it, with her coat, scarf and hat keeping her warm enough for now, but she carries it over her arms with her hands tucked inside her sleeves while she pokes around the place.

She's still finding rooms that she's never seen before. Didn't someone say something about making a map, once?

She almost passes Hanzo by without noticing him, and it's only the motion of tucking her hair behind her ear that has the shape of the man catching her attention. The young woman jumps slightly, muttering a breathy 'oh holy shit' as she stops.

"Yo, aren't you cold?"

[nockturnal]

"Are you not?"

Hanzo lifts his gaze, expression neutral. But honestly, how could anyone not be cold? Unless they were mechanical in nature. The bots did not appear to be having the same trouble as the flesh-and-blood residents of Anchor.

Slowly he shifts, stirring some vague friction against the fabric in the hopes of earning a little more warmth.

[redwinekindofgirl]

"Er... not too much."

She makes a small gesture, spreading both of her hands. Gloves, scarf, coat, shoes that aren't letting the snow in... There's an awareness of the cold, but she's not suffering too badly.

A bit of weather like this really has nothing on New York winters in the middle of a climate crisis. Julie holds the blanket up slightly.

"You want this? Or-- You know you can just find a room to stay in, right?"

[nockturnal]

Her answer is a flat stare before he shifts, turning his gaze elsewhere.

"I am fine."

Despite any evidence to the contrary. Though he is curious how she was able to receive a blanket. The bots seemed to have some sort of prerequisite that prevented him from being able to obtain one, and he hadn't thought to argue the matter.

Perhaps he should have been more forceful.

[redwinekindofgirl]

There's a curious tilt of her head, and she wonders why she keeps running into these men with more ego than sense. Despite what he said, she pointedly holds the blanket out to him.

"I won't tell anyone," she quips lightly, giving the bundle of thick fabric a small shake in his direction. "What's your name?"

[nockturnal]

"Hanzo."

He says that with an air of doubt, as if unsure what his name could have to do with him taking the blanket or not. But when it appears she is dead set on giving it to him anyway, he reaches for it, winding it around his shoulders like a wrap and settling back in, frowning at her all the while.

"And what is it you want in return?"