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

Scaramouche | OTA | Will Match Format

[numerouno]

A. Spa (near the Steam Rooms)

[He didn't think he'd be back here so soon.

He's still got the sticker in his pocket from a few days ago when he'd gone for a dip on the condition that it was a private spa and that they didn't. Touch. Anything he took off. That got rid of them; they did what they were told and he was out of there in a jiffy. Getting any cozier with your surroundings than that isn't smart.

This time, he's here because it's comfortably warm, unlike the bar. The cold doesn't really bother him, but he's taking a short break before he goes hitting the pavement again and he wanted a change of scenery.

Laid out on a lounge chair now, his legs are folded at the ankles and his hands are placed behind his head, upon which his hat is tilted rakishly. On the floor, below the left side of the chair, lies the large sword he usually carries on his back, concealed in a black scabbard. The dagger tied to his belt remains sheathed there.]

B. Mid/Upper-Level Central Hallways

[Scaramouche slows to a halt and tips his head back a little to peer up at the flurry around him. Snow drifts lightly onto his face. He deftly brushes the specks of ice away, turning his attention to what he can see of Anchor from here. Seems like it's snowing everywhere now.

It reminds him of falling ash.]

What do you want, babe?

[The question, terse and monotonous in its delivery, isn't devoid of a snide undertone. The little servant bot behind him totters closer, coming up to his side to offer him a compactly folded blanket.]

Suppose I don't take it.

[They hesitate, but in a few seconds, they're holding up a steaming capsule of... what is that, chocolate? Scaramouche looks down at it and takes it from them.]

B

[nockturnal]

Unless you are somehow immune to the cold, I would take it.

[ The voice comes from a figure huddled under a jacket, trying his best to conserve heat, and scowling mildly at the display. The little robots seemed to have an odd notion of who to deliver these gifts to, as they'd rolled right past when he was here in this section of hallway by himself.

Probably damaged programming, or some such. ]

[numerouno]

[Scaramouche turns toward the source of the voice, raising his luminescent eyes from the drink in his hand to look at the man nearby without interest.]

What are you, a doctor?

[He gestures meaninglessly at him with his free hand.]

[nockturnal]

Hardly.

[ He regards Scaramouche, his metal exterior, and his eyes narrow slightly.

Tch. An omnic. He's never had much regard for them. ]

[numerouno]

Then what business is it of yours? Maybe I like the cold.

[Scaramouche's attention returns to the capsule he's holding. He swirls the mysterious substance around a little. He'll be heading for the bar soon to spice it up, probably. Whatever it is.]

[nockturnal]

I will remember that, should I find your frozen corpse at some point in the future.

[ He's done. Shown his one shred of empathy for the day, and now he's fresh out. So don't mind him huddling further under his jacket and ignoring the fact that somehow, the bots seem to think this creature is worthy of the additional warmth.

Looking after their own, perhaps. Nevermind the sense in it. ]

[numerouno]

[Scaramouche smirks at that. Without glancing up from his drink, he pushes on in a tone that oozes with feigned charm.]

Hey, are you new or something?

[He's positive he hasn't seen this guy around. Could be he wasn't looking hard enough...]

[nockturnal]

Hmph. Well-spotted.

[ Really. He'd applaud, but he's trying to keep his hands warm in his pockets. But the look of general disdain Scaramouche gets in turn says enough on its own. ]

[numerouno]

[His broad smile grows even wider.]

Do you like it here?

[nockturnal]

If there is anything to like about this place, I have yet to find it.

[ It could be worse. That doesn't make any of this good, so far as he's concerned. He's trapped, in some long-abandoned pit in a radiated wasteland with...creatures such as this. And slowly freezing on top of it all.

Surely, he is being mocked. ]

[numerouno]

How about that killer view?

[Scaramouche says as he finally looks over and gives the man--and his tattoos--his full attention, his voice deepening a little with suggestion.]

[nockturnal]

A barren wasteland of poison and sand? Yes. Quite the view.

[ Inside, with the snow, it is not so terrible. But nothing he would marvel at.

Feeling the thing's eyes roaming over him, Hanzo's eyes narrow further. No funny ideas, now. ]

[numerouno]

[He grins some more, delighted to see the guy's eyes narrow.]

You'll learn to like it, babe.

B

[redwinekindofgirl]

Oh, where can I get one of those?

[It could be the chocolate or the blanket she's referring to, but she's looking at the serving bot curiously and wondering what directs the robots to decide who they're going to offer their help to and when.

At least she isn't cold with the amount of layers she's got on. The snow without worrying about the noise it could be hiding is a novel thing, and she's going to enjoy it.]

[numerouno]

[Scaramouche doesn't say a word. When he peers down at them both, the bot attendant has already turned to her, all perked up and ready to serve again. The folded bundle is being offered to her now.

It brings a smirk to his face.]

Looks like it's someone's lucky day...

[redwinekindofgirl]

Aw, thanks.

[They're just doing their best, and they haven't tried to offer her anything weird yet. Julie takes the bundle and folds it over her arm.]

I wonder who was here programming these guys. There's some lights on in there.

[numerouno]

What does it matter? They're dead or in hiding.

[The servant bot turns to him again. Scaramouche moves his hand from his hip to make a shooing motion.]

[redwinekindofgirl]

The last place I was had a spooky genocidal backstory.

[She rolls her eyes slightly as she says it.]

You don't wonder what the fuck's going on here? I mean, really?

[numerouno]

[Scaramouche glowers at the bot. The longer it stands there, the thicker that fine, powdery layer of snow on its head is going to get.]

Sure I do, babe. Hold that thought, will ya? [To the bot:] Hey, Bolts-for-Brains: get moving.

[redwinekindofgirl]

Uh, sure.

[No problem, Julie will just stand while Scaramouche works through whatever problem he's having with the very attentive little bot that is still keenly waiting for their attention.]

The hot chocolate's actually pretty good.

[numerouno]

[It finally gets the message and makes tracks. Scaramouche scowls at it for just a few seconds longer.]

Where were we?

[She mentions the hot chocolate and he looks down at the capsule in his hand.]

Is that what that is? [A brief pause. He holds it out to her.] Here.

[redwinekindofgirl]

Oh. [Sure, why not. She takes the offer with a small shrug and holds the warm cup between both hands.]

Thanks. I guess they can't tell the difference between who would want it and who wouldn't.

[She doesn't say 'who could drink it' only because... well, how would she know what he could do?]

[numerouno]

They can't tell much of anything.

[He turns around to start walking at a casual pace in the opposite direction. Jujubug can follow if she wants.]

You're not drinking it like that, are you?

[redwinekindofgirl]

[She looks down at the drink, lifting both eyebrows.]

Uhhh... why, what's wrong with it?

[numerouno]

You've gotta wake it up first - we have a bar here, remember?

[The only reason he gave her the capsule the servant bot gave him? He isn't swinging by the bar till later.]