redshift: tdm #4

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Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

▶ Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.

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a. the red shit.

There are rumblings in the deepest, most overgrown part of the agricultural area, where until very recently there was a lingering pocket of red algae. The good news is, the red algae is gone! The bad news is, it all got eaten by a mutated bear-thing with giant antlers. The algae did a number on the poor thing, doping it up and confusing it to the point where everything is an enemy.

What’s worse? The algae has adapted, colonizing the creature’s entire body. The algae has mutated in the process, releasing a protective cloud of toxins that causes severe hallucinations, as well as some of the protective and euphoric qualities that the red algae originally possessed. Which means the mutated, antlered, bear-thing is accompanied by a small army of other creatures, from large to small, who are all very invested in its survival and also are being driven crazy by its presence.

Prepare yourselves for one hell of a hunt. These animals can pop up almost everywhere in the agricultural zones, and when they do show their paws it’s to go on a rampage.

b. fashionista.

It wouldn’t be Anchor if the bots weren’t fucking shit up.

This time, the spa bots have gone full stylist coach, chasing down residents and trying to do their hair, nails, makeup, or change their clothes. In some cases, they're literally sweeping people off their feet and carrying them to the hot springs, massage rooms, and spa areas to be pampered. Too bad most of their cosmetics are fifty years out of date and the closests they’ve raided either had another resident’s clothes or moth-eaten dust-covered rags.

Is that the jacket Idris Elba was wearing in the introductory video? It kinda looks like it.

But it’s not all bad! The bots actually give great massages and fantastic mani-pedis. They also have a small stash of fresh cosmetics and clean clothes that got left behind in the spas. They might not fit great, but they look pretty good!

If your character doesn’t practice proper self-care, well. They’d better watch out. These bots have a particular eye for the sad, the filthy, the tired, and they’re going to make sure you get some damn fine pampering.

c. whole foods: 2.0.

Remember that whole Whole Foods grocery store thing that happened? Well, the grocery store and the zombies are still there. Only now there are more zombies, and two giant supply trucks have shown up, one behind and one in front of the store.

The one at the rear of the store can be accessed fairly easily. It’s painted to look like a giant United States flag, with a dramatic crying eagle emblazoned across the back doors. Inside, there is beer. Lots and lots of beer, and a bunch of semiautomatic rifles. Also some skeletons. Seems like the guns and booze didn’t help them.

The one in front of the store is thickly surrounded, the creatures clawing at the plain white sides of the semi like there’s something precious inside.

If Anchorites can make it through, if they can fend off the monsters and keep from getting torn to pieces by a hoard of bloodthirsty beasts, they’ll find out what that precious truck contains.

It’s twinkies. A semi full of twinkies. We hope you’ve got a sweet tooth, Anchor.

Navigation.

Comments

A

[braidmage]

[ Not only has Reynir never seen an alien in real life before, but he also has never seen one in movies or on television, either. Since he's never seen TV or movies. In fact, just the information that there are other planets in the universe would probably be enough to blow his mind. He comes from a world where electricity is fancy, okay, he's doing his best.

But he is walking on the upper levels, near to where the decontamination lets out into the main area of the Anchor, when Garrus emerges, looking the way Garrus looks. The first thing that catches Reynir's eyes is what he's wearing - his own outfit is fairly old-fashioned. Once he catches sight of Garrus himself, however, his eyes go round with shock.

And he does the only completely logical thing to do when seeing a being that he's never seen before. He walks closer, scooping up the little orange and white kitty that had been padding along at his heels and holds her out in Garrus's direction at arm's length, waiting to see if her fur will puff up in fear or if she will start hissing. She doesn't, which is a very good sign.

Belatedly, and very tentatively, he says: ]

Hello?

[dispenserofjustice]

[ Look, to each their own. The style of dress - old fashioned or otherwise - isn't going to be something that catches his interest overly much. Well not more than anything other than a clue as to what kind of world a stranger could come from at any rate. Just because Garrus prefers armor - just about at all times - doesn't mean that others do.

If that message he had listened to is correct, he really should expect to see races or individuals that come from places very far removed from the galaxy that he's come to know in his last few years of traversing across it.

Now what does catch Garrus' attention is the little furry creature that's practically being shoved in his direction. He pauses from what he's doing because he has no idea what the creature is. Er... Well Garrus knows enough to recognize it as a pet humans tend to have but more than that? ]

Is holding out a mammal some sort of greeting where you come from? Because if that's the case, then I don't really have anything to hold out to you.

[ He's teasing. Garrus knows that's probably not the case, but! ]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir at least has the social graces to feel a little bit awkward, once the stranger begins to speak to him, wondering if this is some form of traditional greeting. He hadn't known whether Garrus would be capable of understanding him, or speaking to him. But he talks just like a regular person and now this is just embarrassing.

He pulls Kisa back towards him, hauling her up to cradle against his chest, more for comfort than anything else, now. There's just no honest and non-rude way to explain. Oh well. ]

Uh, I- I wasn't sure if I should be running away, so I was seeing how Kisa would react to you. She isn't hissing at all, so you're not dangerous.

[ Should he explain he would have done the same thing when running into a random human? No. No that would just make things way worse. Reynir never stops to consider that there are other kinds of dangerous that Garrus might be, other than infected with the illness that had ravaged his own world - the one that felines were immune to but almost all adept at spotting. ]

Sorry. I had to check.

[ That is definitely not sufficient, but it's the best he can think of, for now. He gives a tiny shrug and an apologetic little smile. ]

[dispenserofjustice]

[ It's kind of obvious that he is the first Turian to find himself here. The reactions that he seems to be getting kind of spells all that out. Now Garrus doesn't really mind. It's awfully awkward and makes him a touch fidgety, but really? What else can be expected? He'd probably be a little hostile to an alien race he hadn't come across. Hell, Garrus can be hostile towards people if he gets the wrong impression from them. ]

Just because it doesn't think to hiss at me doesn't mean that I'm not dangerous you know. True, I don't mean you any harm unless you come at me first, but I wouldn't suggest it.

[ Even though Garrus prefers to use guns and especially picking off his enemy at a distance he is more than proficient at close combat. ]

How long have you been here if you're still spooked by people arriving?

[braidmage]

[ Reynir just blinks a moment like Garrus is actually blowing his mind here, suggesting he could be dangerous in ways undetectable by a small, fluffy kitty cat. The young man allows the now wriggling cat to climb her way up to settle on his shoulder, where it seems she is well-accustomed to sitting. ]

I guess that is true, huh?

[ And then, because he's feeling a little embarrassed over the misunderstanding, and he wants to reassure Garrus he's not going to 'come at him' or anything like that: ]

I didn't mean that kind of dangerous, actually. I meant, like. Contagious.

[ Then, only just then realizing that that itself might seem even more rude, Reynir adds: ]

Old habits, sorry. Disease... is a much bigger deal where I come from than the places other people here are from, I guess. I know everyone who arrives comes through decontamination but there's no quarantine at all, not even for a few days! Freaks me out.

[ Which perhaps will go some way to explaining why each new arrival, even the ones that don't look as unusual as Garrus, seem like potential threats to Reynir. ]

Almost three weeks, now.

[ Then, because he knows his curiosity must be clear and there's really no way to know without asking: ]

Are you a spirit?

[dispenserofjustice]

A spirit? Oh no. No no no. And the next time you come across a Turian I wouldn't suggest asking that.

[ Garrus knows what he means, of course. Spirit as in like a ghost or something intangible that will bring someone harm or misfortune. There's no way this guy can know that, to his people, spirits are usually things that you pray to. Or ask for blessings.

So moving on from that topic, he can kind of understand. Contagions are a serious affair, especially on space stations or outposts. If one person brings a deadly disease back, it could wipe out the entire populace. ]

Look, I'm not going to say that disease isn't a big deal. Even where I'm from a plague could mean the death of an entire settlement. Decontamination procedures can only do so much. Maybe there should be a quarantine for a day or two.

[braidmage]

Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to be offensive.

[ Why would anyone be offended that someone thought they were a spirit, Reynir wonders. It isn't as if spirits are uncommon or inherently malevolent. Sure, some of them are bad news but others are just fine. Then again... cultural norms sure are arbitrary sometimes! ]

So you're a Turian? I've never heard of that country before, I'm sorry.

[ He really assumes that this creature is from a place on Earth called Turia or some equivalent. Like calling someone from Finland a Finn or from Sweden a Swede. He's gonna need some more ground work done before he can wrap his brain around ALIENS.

And yet despite his odd appearance, this guy? This guy GETS it. Finally, someone apart from Onni and Reynir who believes there ought to be measures in place to make sure the next new arrival doesn't bring about the death and ruin of everyone living here. ]

I guess instead of worrying about it and complaining... maybe some of us should try setting one up.

[ He sounds unsure; Reynir wants to be useful and he really does know that quarantines are essential to survival, but he's not really big into leadership, and he's never really... set something up, before. How would you even start? ]

But there isn't, like. A military here or anything to make sure people actually wait it out.

[dispenserofjustice]

Oh I'm not offended. You've never met anyone like me before so it shouldn't be expected. Offering prayers to spirits is about as close as my kind get to being religious. Which is to say we're not really from a country. Try another planet altogether.

[ He's probably breaking some rules about first contact and all that but honestly Garrus can't be too bothered about that at this point. Besides it shouldn't be too hard understand. Isn't the guy on a brand new planet himself? ]

Now as for setting one up? Shouldn't be difficult even without a military. You just need to set up a place that would work for a small quarantine zone and the ability to block the door from opening. At least on one side.

[braidmage]

[ Reynir makes a soft ohhh of understanding. From the sound of it, it's a misunderstanding born of imperfect translation. Spirits, in his world, can be many different things, but they aren't gods. It sounds as if Turians refer to their gods as 'spirits', so yeah, he can see why that question might be sort of weird and uncomfortable.

But instead of hashing all that out, he's totally thrown off by the knowledge that Turians are a kind of species and this pereson is from another planet. Green eyes wide and credulous, Reynir asks: ]

Like the moon?!

[ Listen: he is a literal peasant, he doesn't know anything about astronomy! The fact that he's not 100% clear on the difference between a planet and a moon ought to be some clue about the level of education he's working with here. Hint - not much!

But guess what he does know about? He knows about quarantines. They are a part of life in his world, and he immediately thinks of a dozen practical concerns that Garrus has not: ]

I think it's a little more complicated than that. You'd need at least one doctor to monitor people for symptoms and look after them if they have any like, separate injuries they come in with. And you would need to arrange a food schedule and someone to wash dishes and how to deal with laundry and linens that might be contaminated, and that's not even getting in to entertainment and other ways to make it not any more horrible and tedious than it has to be.

[ A hint of sadness slips into his expression then, and he rubs at the back of his neck. ]

If... someone showed up infected, and they're in quarantine, those might be the last few weeks of their life. It shouldn't - be awful, and uncomfortable, and lonely.