redshiftlogs | january 2020. welcome to the void.

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january 2020. welcome to the void.

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Seventh Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of January 2020
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. champagne supernova.

Normally, the changes in the sky are subtle, happening between glances or over the course of days.

That's not the case now, when the bright sky with its three suns is wiped away in an explosion of blue light, right at sunrise on the morning of January 1st. The light pulses across the sky in uneven blazes, sending out lattices of what might be lightning or something worse. There's no moon. No brightness. Just this lightning-storm brilliance in space, shedding little light on the world below.

And the suns don't come back on. As the day wears on, the supernova brightness in the sky starts to fade out and no new light appears. The sky is static and black, with no stars, no moons, no suns. The mild rolling blackouts that started with the opening of the relaxation room intensify with the sudden loss of solar power, as the backup systems try to compensate for the increased use of power.

For a moment, power goes out in Anchor entirely, leaving the place plunged into darkness.

The darkness doesn't last. Thanks to those generators everyone worked so hard to sort out, the backup systems struggle back to life, keeping the lights on and the bar, kitchen, and agricultural supports open, but there are some things that the limited power just can't cover.

b. tower of babelfish.

The first, and perhaps the most noticeable system to start failing, are the auto-translation programs. While not affecting every area in Anchor equally, communication between those who speak different languages is going to be a lot more difficult. The effects are spotty, coming and going, sometimes completely failing, leaving only people's naturally-spoken languages available. Sometimes it just struggles, making conversations sound a lot more like babelfish translations than recognizable speech. People themselves seem to be affected differently by the translation struggles, depending on who and where they are. There's no rhyme or reason to when and how it fails. But the problem persists through most of the month.

c. the hidden passage.

The second system failure is harder to spot.

At the end of what seemed to be a maintenance hallway, a set of doors have appeared from behind what used to be a shielded hologram of a dead end. The doors stick out from their surroundings: thick metal, barred heavily from the outside. A clear attempt to keep something locked away inside, not to keep people from entering.

For those adventurous enough, or foolish enough, to wrestle the locks open, a problem will reveal itself. A short flight of stairs, leading down into an area flooded by murky water. It's hard to see more than branching halls down below.

Those who choose to brave the water will find a hallway lined with bulkheads and sealed doorways, all guarding rooms that could be accessed with the right combination of smarts and brute force. It's the question of what would be ruined by the water if the doors are opened that might give people pause. What kind of secrets could be wiped out or destroyed if the doors are forced and the water passes through the bulkheads? Can the water be drained? How?

But there is one room open, or mostly open, where the bulkhead doors didn't quite manage to seal when the area flooded. It'll be a squeeze, for bigger characters, but the flooded room beyond contains artifacts preserved behind glass - strange medallions, strings of glowing beads, broken sceptres, arrows fletched with feathers from creatures no one has ever seen before.

Only one object isn't sealed away. It's a handful of small orbs, with shifting colors, held in place by a shield array that still seems to function, for the most part. They can be touched, can even be removed from the stand with the right know-how or a willingness to smash stuff.

But once an orb is touched, the colors start to spin more rapidly. The more it's handled, the brighter and faster the colors shift. Whether it takes hold immediately or not is up to you, but those who handled the orb will find the bright colors start to glow under the surface of their skin, in the shape of veins, glowing bright for a few minutes before fading. And those people bring a different kind of contagion back with them to the surface. Memory loss, communicated from one person to the next via contact. It can be partial or complete, or not happen to your character at all - they can be an unwitting "carrier" of the effects, passing it on without experiencing the losses themselves. The loss can last from hours to weeks, with carriers being "infected" for the duration of that time.

It also leaves behind magical traces, ones that don't fade after memories return. The cleverest might start to wonder if it wasn't a kind of inoculation, though against what, it remains to be seen.

Navigation.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He mutters something about how he'd have to be alive in the first place to live and breathe another day, irritated his question went unanswered (again), but he has a more pressing question to ask about now.]

And Mister Qubit? Is he useful, or would you just let something kill him?

[Or would Kabal kill him himself? Because that is a legitimate concern.]

Edited 2020-01-14 06:22 (UTC)

Which one is Qubit? Is that the tech guy with the dumb hair?

Yeah he could probably die and we'd be okay. We've still got Peter. It'll be fine.

[Downstairs they go~! Kabal leads them to the flooded corridor, a little annoyed Brian isn't still there so he can chuck him into the water again.]

Which one are you then?

[Yes that's him asking Carlisle's name. Feel honored.]

[Carlisle stops at the water's edge, clearly not thrilled about the prospect of going in there, even if there is a modicum of satisfaction in finally having Kabal ask his name.]

I'm Carlisle Longinmouth. I told you that last time.

[Didn't he? He did, but to be fair, Kabal had been drinking and threatening him within an inch of his life less than ten seconds later over a necklace, so it's likely his introduction went in one ear and out there other just as quickly.]

Yeah. I wasn't paying attention.

[He's honest, if nothing else.]

You don't disintegrate in water do you?

[he looks like a strong breeze may end him, so best to make sure.]

No, but I'm not eager to be drenched, either.

[If only he'd been as honest as Kabal - if he claimed he'd melt, perhaps he could have avoided this endeavor entirely.]

[Or Kabal would have chucked him in there to watch. Choose your battles Carlisle.]

It's not that bad, come on.

[He jumps in with a huge splash that will drench Carlisle whether he wants it or not.]

Let's get this over with before Qubit shows up and ruins all our fun or takes half the profits.

[The water hits Carlisle, and while he doesn't melt, he certainly doesn't look happy to be drenched, either. Thankfully, his padded suit doesn't stick to him the way the looser fabrics of his outfit do, and thus continues to hide the withered frame beneath. He steps into the flooded corridor, cringing the entire time.]

Cisth, who knows what might be lurking in here. Probably snakes, so you'd be in good company.

You need to work on your insults.

Are flooded hallways commonly full of snakes where you're from? Because where I'm from the worst you get is rats and maybe a drunk homeless guy pissing into a bottle.

[He leads them past the half open doorway containing the fun swirly orbs and a little further to three identical locked bulkheads.]

Pick one. Dealer's choice.

[Carlisle looks left and right, surveying all the doors, trying to determine which one is the least likely to have certain death lurking behind it. Unfortunately, they all look the same, and so he just picks the closest one, deciding he'd rather just get those over with so he doesn't have to stand in the water any longer than he has to. He sloshes over to the bulkhead, takes a deep breath, and puts his hands on the surface.

And nothing happens. Nothing continues to happen for several seconds. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate, to recreate that feeling of loathing and disgust that accompanies his undead nature, but the metal doesn't react like any of the surfaces before.

And then he tries one more time, and the ceiling above them flakes, the water at his feet tinted with the decay of the floor beneath him. Another several seconds, and Kabal may start to feel his skin tingling, the very air around them cold with the chill of death. As for Carlisle himself, he's so focused on trying to rot the wall that he doesn't realize he may rot everything -- and everyone -- else around him.]

[Hmm. Well that's not ideal. Carlisle is a little like a junkyard dog that accidentally bites the hand that feeds because it doesn't know any better.

Except with rot.

He looks down at his hands because that sensation is disturbingly familiar. Familiar and unwelcome and before Kabal can stop himself he pulls his fitst back and SLAMS it right into the wall by Carlisle's head. Hard enough to dent the metal, to crack his knuckles and send a splatter of blood against the metal panelling.

If he'd aimed that at Carlisle there wouldn't be much of him still standing.]

The wall. Not the rest of this.

[He's panting a bit, unsettled by that feeling.]

[ Just then, from the way they came in, there comes the sound of someone sloshing purposefully through the waist-deep water, followed by a familiar voice. Which is in turn followed by Qubit. ]

Am I going to have to separate you two?

[In good news, Kabal's blow to the wall is plenty to break Carlisle's concentration, and with his focus goes his magic. There's one more fluctuation in the air -- a sharp spike of freezing cold that hits like ice in the veins -- and it is gone, his fingers curling against his palms, arms raised defensively in case Kabal lashes out at him.

He hisses out an I'M TRYING below his breath just before Qubit appears. Oh good, his help has arrived. He's still not wholly convinced Qubit can wrangle Kabal the way he seems to think he can, but he can't possibly be a detriment to this situation, can he?]

Please. [He takes a step away from the bulkhead, his eyes trailing downward as he's suddenly aware of how filthy the water has become, then upward to the ceiling, where it appears the same sort of decay has occurred. The door and the wall, however, remain unchanged.]

It- it's not working. Why isn't it working? If it doesn't work, we can leave, right?

Edited 2020-01-22 05:01 (UTC)

[He's a little frazzled by whatever Carlisle was doing so he doesn't give the eyeroll and epic sigh he should have. Because he's now eyeing the nerdy mage with a look that would definitely cause him to run for cover.]

No, if it doesn't work we stay here until it works. Hope you like your fingers and toes shriveling up because this water's not getting any warmer.

[ Qubit moves to interpose himself between the two of them, fixing Kabal with a glare that could melt steel beams. They can worry about the doors in a second, after he's metaphorically (and/or physically) punched everyone in the snout to establish dominance. ]

Shut up, Kabal, you're on thin ice as it is.

[ He shoots a quick sidelong glance to Carlisle, adding- ] You all right?

[Carlisle's eyes meet Qubit's briefly, then make their way to the floor; he crosses his arms as he tries to mask his apprehension, but the look Kabal shoots him makes the skittish clergyman shift with obvious discomfort. He takes a step back, trying to distance himself from the discolored water all around him, and with little success.]

I'm— [another step; the ruddy water follows him] I am somewhere I'd rather not be, waist-deep in water, and that dent he put there in the wall could have been in my skull. Do you think I'm all right?

[He really is grateful, Qubit. Please don't leave him here.]

Edited 2020-01-27 06:02 (UTC)

[Kabal straight up laughs in Qubit's face.]

You're a riot. Now fuck off so we can finish what we were doing.

[He needs Carlisle to melt the door, he absolutely does not need Qubit. Which means Qubit doesn't necessarily need to keep his head attached to his body.]

[ All right. Carlisle's terrified and complaining, so he's fine. That just leaves Kabal.

Qubit straightens up and faces him square-on. If you don't count the hair, he's the shortest one here by a few inches, and while he's not reedier than Carlisle, that's not exactly a high bar to clear. But he pointedly stays where he is, raising his head to glare down his nose at him.

Do you really think you're the scariest thing he's ever stared down, Kabal? He's not intimidated in the slightest. ]

No. No, I don't think I will.

[Shrug.]

Suit yourself.

[Qubit is leaving this little party and Kabal doesn't care how many pieces he's in when he does it. He doesn't go for his swords yet giving Qubit quite a look behind that mask before he dashes forward, almost too fast to see and aims a shoulder right at Qubit's gut.

He hits with the force of a freight train so unless Qubit is dodging he's about to be thrown right into Carlisle and the both of them will be plastered against the door. Two birds with one stone. Or two nerds, one jock as it were.]

[ Qubit is nowhere near fast enough to dodge someone like Kabal, and in any event he doesn't try to. The blow catches him full in the stomach, slamming him backwards into Carlisle and then the door. He might seem a little more solid than Kabal was anticipating, though; his force shield shimmers as it deflects most of the impact, leaving Qubit pinned but unharmed.

He wastes no time striking back. Much as he'd love to take that respirator apart, it's not electric - but there is something on Kabal's person that he can use, a comm or phone or something. That'll do.

Qubit's eyes light up blue-green, and the phone in Kabal's pocket suddenly seems to come to life as his power twists it inside-out. Within a second or two, it's become a stun gun, set to automatically discharge into whatever body part may be closest.

So yeah, enjoy 80,000 volts straight to the nuts, asshole. ]

[Nice. He'd like to gloat about creating a Carlisle / Door sandwich but he can't because Qubit so rudely ruins his minor victory. This is why people don't like you Qubit.

He's wearing cargo pants so he doesn't really realize what's happening in his pocket until he gets zapped in places he would rather not get electrocuted thank you. But it's very effective as Kabal drops.

Immediately.

Into the water.

The water they're all standing in.

Which might not be great for anyone else depending on how long said stun gun goes off for. But Kabal doesn't care because SWEET FUCKING HELL THAT HURTS. So he'll just be on the ground curled into a ball for the foreseeable future.

Fuck you guys.]

[Carlisle hadn't enjoyed being pinned between Qubit and the door: while the personal force shield protects the technomancer, it does nothing for Carlisle himself, who is pretty sure he hears a crack from his ribs somewhere upon impact with the handle on the bulkhead. He doesn't get the chance to worry about it as Qubit retaliates, and while he has no idea exactly what happened, the results are stunning -- both literally and figuratively.

Unfortunately, Kabal collapses and sinks right into the water, the murk from the rust making it tough to find exactly where he's lying. Carlisle assumes the brute must be faking it -- he's lying in wait, wanting to grab Qubit when he gets close. Any second, he'll rise from the water, angrier than ever.

But that second doesn't come. Carlisle peers around Qubit, his glowing eyes still on the water.]

Is... is he alive?

[Given he has an unfortunate proclivity for uncontrollably raising the dead, Carlisle sounds more concerned than he ought to be, given he's the one who called for Qubit's help in the first place.]

Edited 2020-04-08 22:59 (UTC)

[ The stun gun is only active for a split second, but Kabal drops into the water like a ton of bricks. He's still right next to them, so at first Qubit has the same caution Carlisle does - but nothing happens. Kabal's not moving. There's no bubbles rising to the surface.

Qubit blanches, his expression losing all vindictiveness in an instant. Oh, hell. ]

I... don't know.

[ Panic starts to set in. He hates Kabal's guts, sure, but he wasn't intending to kill him! It's possible the guy's supernaturally tough, but that's just it, he doesn't know. ]

Damn it, why didn't I account for the water?! I could have knocked him cold with a joy buzzer, for God's sake -

[ Frantically, he grabs around in the murky water until he finds Kabal's arm and tries to pull him up. The water makes it easier than it would be otherwise, but Kabal is a very large man, and Qubit has trouble actually getting him clear. He glances up at Carlisle and snaps - ]

Don't just stand there, help me!

[Carlisle straightens up when he's called, stepping closer, but pausing before he reaches into the water; the ruddy color of rust swirls around Qubit's arms, no doubt stirred from the corroded floor beneath the surface.]

You think it's a good idea for me to touch him? After what I've been doing?

[Not that he wants Kabal dead, or drowning, or whatever it is he's doing down there, but he can't help but feel the second he gets his mitts on the man that, if he is dead, he won't be quite as dead anymore.]

[ ... He has a point, unfortunately. Kabal dying might screw Qubit, but Kabal reanimating would screw them both. Grumbling, he tries to get more of his weight underneath him, and finally manages to raise Kabal's masked face above water, at least. ]

At least - ngh - tell me whether he's breathing, can you do that?!

[Carlisle's fingers curl against his palms as he steps closer, leaning his face toward Kabal's and murmuring something about how if he lunges at him, he's leaving him to die. Kabal remains unconscious.]

I- I don't know. I don't hear anything, but let's be frank that between you and him and the splashing of water, it's hard to make out if he's breathing, or if he's just lying really still, waiting to attack us.

[He straightens out, trying not to panic. It's not working.]

What if- what if he died? Does he have friends? Are they going to come looking for us? What did you do?

january 2020. welcome to the void.

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