january 2020. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

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.

Comments

[floozie]

("ray" gives enough of a warning that zelos barely tenses at the shards, opting to keep his remarks on the sight to himself – beautiful, though, and they're supposed to help in the long run. that's never stopped him preparing for the possibility of an attack, spell ready to be chanted and drawn with a practiced hand.

one that's redirected to his hair when the flashlight comes into play, flipping it over his shoulder to keep it out of the way.)

Well, would you look at that? I can, thanks to you and that nifty little trick. (now confidently detaching himself from the wall to get a good look at noctis before padding across a sudsy floor – through the beam – to a free shower head close by.) Now that we're in better straits, though, I'll be the first to clear the air... if you've gotta' stare, Ray, then that's okay by me. You're only human, just don't make a big deal out of it. Alright?

(CRANKS THE WATER ON.)

I'm Zelos Wilder.

[fessus]

[ Holding the flashlight while continuing his shower is admittedly an awkward task to handle but he's not without the capability, one hand combing impatiently through his hair to rinse it while–

Zelos parades right through the beam of light meant to protect their modesty and Noctis immediately directs his gaze upward, mentally cursing whoever is responsible for landing him here. Probably Gladio, somehow. That's usually the case. If this is some elaborate test... ]

Who's making a big deal out of anything, other than you? You could try being a little less showy... [ Man, he needs to finish up in here as quickly as possible. ]

How'd you get here, anyway? Do you remember anything about it?

[floozie]

Less showy.

(IMPOSSIBLE.)

As if I could. It'd be a crime to let all this go to waste by acting humble about it. Maybe you should take a page from my book and own it a bit more. (smoothing a hand over the soap pump, trying to figure out how to work the damn thing until pushing at it with a thumb blobs some onto the back of his hand.

sniffs at it, then begins to lather as he considers noctis' question.)

... nah, I can't seem to remember much about it. I must've dozed off somewhere. I've got this spinning feeling and a splitting headache, though. You?

[fessus]

[ He's never cleaned his body at this speed, not even when camping out in the middle of nowhere with only a lake and a watchful catoplebas to keep him company. He's found himself grateful for their obsessive voyeurism at night, at least, since their presence is enough to keep most daemons away.

Zelos is more intimidating, somehow. ]

Hah? Oh, yeah. Ditto on both. Feeling pretty tired too, but I guess that's nothing new... [ Self-awareness and nudity tend to go hand in hand, after all. He haphazardly washes himself with one hand, just as quickly rinsing off soap before giving his hair a last run-through.

It's delicate. ]

[floozie]

(ducks to let the water beat down the back of his neck, out of luck when it finally runs cold. it's refreshing in its own right, staying under long enough for his next breath to be a short puff of an exhale, before he ensures that he's rinsed enough to cut his shower short.)

That was unsatisfying.

Anyway, I guess I'm ready to check the rest of this place out.. when the power comes back on, that is. In the meantime, I'm gonna' grab my stuff and head back to that last room to dry off. You coming with? (there doesn't seem to be too many other options. either way, both of them are going to have to force a door open, get through, and hold it open for the other—unless ray is fine with staying here, naked in the dark.)

'Course you are. Let's find a couple towels.

[fessus]

[ naked and afraid ]

Oi oi, make decisions for one person at a time. [ This definitely was a better comeback in his head, but nevertheless he's hurriedly turning off that water with equally impatient squeezes at his hair. That frees it up to hang ever-so-awkwardly between his legs, a gesture he means to make look casual in his attempt to cover himself but the darkness is really the only thing working in his favor right now.

He directs that flashlight back towards the room they entered from, and the processor with all of their belongings– ah, wait. ]

... my stuff's still being processed. Not really sure it'll give it back to us with the power off.

This is such a joke...

[floozie]

You wanna' just stay in here and wait for help or something? At least the other room had supplies. (jerks a thumb in... not the right direction. he's a bit turned around, that's all.) This room is probably sealed up tight to prevent whatever gross plague you brought here with you from leaking into the rest of the facility.

Ever think of that? What if your complaints are eating up all our precious air, Ray?

(teasing complete, zelos follows the light down to the door and deviates to find them towels. it's the least he can do, honestly, and he needs to gear up to pry their exit open.)

–oh, here we go. How many do you want, three?

[fessus]

Speak for yourself, I'm plague-free.

[ At least as far as he knows. Honestly the odds that his Insomnia-coddled immune system might've succumb to transferring some weird wetlands parasite isn't exactly null, but that's a worry he'd never even had on his radar until this exact moment. Thank you, Zelos. ]

Ten minutes somewhere new and I've got someone on my case about complaining... [ he complains ]

I'll take one towel, thanks, and if this keeps on like this then I can get us pants or something. Not sure if my shirts would fit you, though... fingers crossed we won't have to wait long to get our stuff back.

[floozie]

(yw buddy)

I'm not saying some complaining isn't warranted, but look how creepy this place is... being naked's the least of our worries. We've already seen all there is to see anyway. (pulling two towels off of the metal rack, wondering if he should biff one at noctis' head. probably not, lest he give him some kind of heart attack or make him fumble the flashlight.

he walks it over and offers it to him at arm's length. this close, features can easily be made out, backlit by ambient light.)

Here– how're you gonna' do that? You said it before, our stuff's still processing.

[fessus]

[ "Noctis, why would you complain about being naked when things are so much worse than just that alone?" It's not the most comforting rebuttal he's heard, but that doesn't mean it isn't inspirational. Right now it's inspiring him to towel off his front at lightspeed, for example, before he's bending down – after taking a healthy step away from Zelos first, thanks – to set that flashlight on the ground, pointing up. ]

Same way I already have. Pretty sure I can guarantee this stuff as clean anyway... [ So said as those fractals of blue light make their reappearance, his hands suddenly filled with various articles of clothing. Good thing, too, because getting these briefs on is even more important than tugging on the dark wash denim right after. Thank god. The towel ends up slung over his shoulders then, catching any water from dripping hair as he holds out a second pair of briefs. ]

... they're not gross or anything.