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redshiftlogs2019-12-08 07:10 pm
modblob) wrote in redshiftlogs2019-12-08 07:10 pm
december 2019. welcome to the void.
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.
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?
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!
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.
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.
no subject
No. What existed before is broken forever. Genji is his brother, and would always be, but the trust that was once there has long ago been shattered to pieces. Is it even worth it to rebuild such a thing, knowing it will never be the same again? Surely not, when seeing Genji standing there was a reminder of Hanzo's failure, not just to the clan but as a person. Failure and guilt that he's carried for years.
There had only ever been one fitting answer to that question.
"Then you should finish what we started. Not this fumbling attempt at reconciliation." Hanzo's eyes narrow, finding hold of some sense of resolve. "Your body might be stronger now...but you are just as weak as you were then."
In other words, it would be simpler if Genji hated him instead. If he sought to end this in the only proper way, and took recompense for the life stolen from him. There would be no peace for either of them, otherwise.
What other answer was there?
no subject
A single syllable but its all he can manage. Hanzo's words are crushing and he feels himself mentally shattering. He doesn't know what to do, least of all what to say.
Hanzo still hates him. Still thinks he's weak and a disappointment.
Decades later and there was still a part of him that wanted his big brothers approval. Or anyone's approval for that matter. Something that made all the suffering and the struggle worthwhile.
Instead he feels utterly numb, as they stand there regarding each other as strangers. There really is nothing else to say and he visibly slumps, defeated again by his brother.
Smoke swirls around him and he disappears, a pathetic figure hunched over a container of soup wanting to be anywhere but there.
Another feather flutters to the ground for Hanzo's collection.
no subject
It's far too late. He knows before the smoke fades that his brother will be gone, and any sense of resolution will have vanished along with him.
Hanzo's jaw works tightly for a moment as he stares at that feather left in his brother's stead. This isn't how it was meant to be. Didn't Genji understand that? Had he learned nothing from the lessons they'd been taught as children? Or was there even enough of him left to remember? There could only be one answer for the crimes committed against him.
This foolish sentimentality had no place in the world they'd come from.
Scowling heavily he takes a knee to collect the feather, delicately placing it with the other he's kept all these years. The bag is wrapped around the items, to compensate for the tear, and...
He walks on. What else is there to do?