redmarsshit | redshift: tdm #4

redshift: tdm #4

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 Too bad most of their cosmetics are fifty years out of date and the closests they’ve raided either had another resident’s clothes or moth-eaten dust-covered rags.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.

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Right. Well—

[He closes his eyes a moment, shutting out the wind, truck, and the terrifyingly open sky above him. His ability to sense the undead is not as precise as he'd like, but he does his best to feel around, magically speaking. The coalition are obvious, the strongest source nearby; there are others within building, shambling between the shelves. He focuses ahead of him, into the trailer.]

Yes, I'm certain. Not undeads.

[ Qubit nods. All right - so if they do get up, it's because something (or someone) is raising them from scratch. Good to know.

His next stop is one of the suspicious unlabeled crates. It's not locked or anything, so he lifts the lid. The contents aren't visible from where Carlisle is, but Qubit doesn't seem pleased with what he finds. Wrinkling his nose, he none too gently lets the lid fall closed again.

Then he turns to Carlisle with an exaggerated grin, spreading his arms wide. ]

Correction: Beer and guns! Lady Liberty sends her blessings.

[Carlisle grimaces, uncertain of how to read Qubit's discoveries until the man turns back to him. Even then, he has his doubts that there's anything worth all this trouble in that truck. He has half a mind to ask if Lady Liberty is a deity, but given how Qubit has reacted to talk of gods and goddesses thus far, he assumes not.]

Fantastic. We did all this so we could get drunk and shoot one another. I suppose others would be happy with such treasures.

[Ignore that quiet clack from the back of the trailer, Qubit. The skeletons are just as annoyed with the situation as Carlisle is, though their displeasure is expressed with a few jittering fingerbones rather than the exasperated sigh the clergyman lets out.]

[ Qubit doesn't hear the clacking just yet, not over the alarms this find has set off in his head. He folds his arms, the fake grin changing back to a scowl. ]

... In fairness, they're bound to come in handy on a planet like this. But what do we do with them in the meantime? They're military-style weapons, they can fire close to ninety rounds a minute. It'd be irresponsible to just... release them into the general population.

I believe leaving them here for said general population to find would be equally irresponsible. We cannot be the only ones interested in seeing what these vehicles contain.

[He crosses his arms, thinking.]

I suppose we could take them with us and store them somewhere. Give them to people we know would not use them unwisely, should you know anyone like that.

[ Right. So they're agreed that something should be done. They should be secured, access should be controlled. The logic's sound, but how to implement it? ]

There is an armory, but it's still sealed off. And somehow, I feel as if cracking that particular nut would cause more problems than it solves.

[ So what other place would be secure enough? Would they be able to get the crates there and avoid being noticed? Should they avoid being noticed? ]

As for who could use them, I can think of a few, but it's not as if I'm familiar with everyone on the station. And we can't exactly run background checks.

[Yeah, opening an armory and releasing even more weapons sounds like a bad time all around, especially when they don't know who would be using them. Carlisle turns a circle, pacing to jog his brain, his eyes landing on his little brigade of minions (15 and half a skeleton).]

What if we hid them out here? Come back for them once we know where, in Anchor, we can store them? You're good with —[he makes a vague gesture with one hand]— technology. Surely you can come up with some way to seal off a room from prying eyes.

[ Hiding them outside Anchor...? Hmm. Carlisle might be on to something there. Even if a Redshift occurs and they vanish, that still solves the "too many guns" part of the problem. Qubit nods. ]

Of course I can. Though once that's done, I'll need to prioritize work on the cargo lift so we can get them downstairs at all... [ That's just him thinking out loud. This would be sooooo much easier if his teleportals worked. ] In the meantime, what do you have in mind for the cache?

There is a lot of empty ground.

[He gestures toward the wasteland, particularly toward a nice outcrop of rocks out there that could act as a marker.]

And we need not dig ourselves.

[With the other hand, he motions toward his entourage (15.5 -- no wait, 16.5 as one of the skeletons inside the trailer clickety-clacks his way toward the exit, only for Carlisle to give him an incredulous look that plainly says YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD).

[ YEAH, UM. Qubit jerks back as one of those definitely not undead skeletons just. casually walks past him! He glances back to the others, then to the first one, then to Carlisle, gesturing ineffectually at each of them in turn. ]

Carlisle! [ EXPLAIN? ]

[Carlisle looks somewhere between frustrated and furious.]

It's not my fault! They were dead! They were dead dead!

[And they are clearly not dead dead anymore, as one of the other ones in the back of the trailer starts attempting to piece itself together. The bones don't reconstruct themselves quite right, the skeleton ending up as a weird amalgamation of bone fragments with just enough legs to crawl its way over the guns. He tries to ensnare them, only to find they already are, the first one making his way over toward him.]

What is wrong with all of you!? Can't you just stay dead for a change? I'm not asking for much! Just for you to stay dead and for me to not have deal with any of this right now!

Edited 2019-10-15 02:16 (UTC)

[ Wow, talk about a shitty skeleton! Whoever's reanimating these guys is terrible at it, am I right?

And now Carlisle is yelling at the mindless shitty skeletons, which is very helpful and doesn't at all make him look like a moron. Qubit rubs his forehead and sighs, mostly irritated now that the surprise has worn off. ]

They're not listening, Carlisle.

I am aware, Mister Qubit.

[And angry. Irritated. The skeletons linger nearby, hanging out with their new master.]

Well? What about the burial plan?

[They're not talking about the skeletons right now.]

Edited 2019-10-15 02:39 (UTC)

[ Qubit holds his arms out in another exaggerated shrug. What do you expect me to say? ]

It's solid, let's do it. And while they're working on that, you and I can work out what reanimated these new ones.

[ You're not getting out of it that easily. ]

[Carlisle grunts, muttering something that is no doubt impolite as he turns to his crew, commanding them to follow him. He doesn't even use any force behind it this time -- as he starts wandering off, his eyes on the ground, they meander after him, shambling through the dust and the sand as the wind pelts their decaying bodies. Once they get closer to the outcrop, Carlisle sets them to digging, hoping he's far enough away that Qubit didn't feel that.

In good news, they're adequate diggers, despite their rotting hands. Maybe it's the dry bones that makes it easier on them, or the fact they're unbothered by the elements. Carlisle heads back toward the truck, leaving them to their work, his brow heavy in thought. The skeletons are still hanging around, the one that's a complete, nonsensical mess only just now making its way out of the trailer.]

I suppose if nothing else, we can bury them with the weapons. That would rid us of two problems with a single solution.

[He still doesn't want to talk about this. They don't need to talk about what reanimated them when they both know good and well who is doing it.]

Edited 2019-10-15 04:05 (UTC)

[ All right, we're doing it, then. While Carlisle's off putting his "people" to work, Qubit starts prepping the weapons to be hauled off. He also spares a glance at the beer, which ~~contrary to what I said in the brackets earlier~~ is actually very good beer. Not his favorite, because he's an unapologetic beer snob, but ... maybe he'll take one or two back with him anyway. You know, for science.

He meets Carlisle at the door alongside Ol' Shittybones there, leaning with his arm against the doorframe. ]

No, that just foists the problem onto whoever digs them up. If you want to make more work for yourself, though, be my guest.

[ To be completely fair, he doesn't know for sure that it's Carlisle who raised them. As established previously, he's hardly an expert on how these things work. But Carlisle, who is an expert, sure as hell seems to know what's up, so. ]

Was it you? I'm not upset, but I do need to know.

[Carlisle's eyes affix themselves on the ground, his expression hardening.]

It has to be. They were ensnared before I even realized they were animated.

[He sighs in frustration as Ol' Shittybones looks up at him; the broken femur the skeleton is using as a neck doesn't seem to hinder him much. Maybe it's because it's magic keeping the skeleton together rather than tissues and muscles.]

You cannot sense it, but I can. What energy keeps these bones connected and moving -- it's mine.

[ Okay. So Carlisle did raise them. He can mentally command both the living and the undead, and he can raise existing corpses.

... Which is fascinating, from a technical standpoint. Does it work on any dead tissue? How much tissue has to be present? What about nonhuman remains? Could a reanimated super still use their powers? He has so many questions...!

Oh, right, I mean, um... it's bad and dangerous! Yeah! Especially if he can't get it under control. And also, this... probably qualifies as desecration of human remains, if there were laws in space? Should he be more upset about that? They keep registering in his mind as "dead tissue" rather than "former humans," and that bugs him a little. Then again, Kaidan's power is basically the same thing, except that it's their souls she's summoning and commanding, and he never had a problem with that...

Yeah, he's probably just overthinking it. They should get back to dealing with the guns -

okay maybe just one little experiment first though. ]

What would happen if you withdrew that energy? Can you?

In theory, as it is mine. They're not like the other undeads. Those were all animated before we got here by energies unknown, but these...

[He pauses a moment before realizing that Qubit probably wants to see that he can withdraw his own energy. His eyes flick to Ol' Shittybones, the poor, malformed creature looking expectantly at him from his thigh-high vantage point. His fingers curl against his palm, as though warming it up, before he places his hand atop the skeleton's head.

His own energy animating the creature feels like a constant, quiet channel, much as he would have once used for healing. He pulls it back to him -- there's no fanfare, no brilliant light or spark of energy as the bony abomination falls to pieces, coming to rest in the dust and dirt at his feet.]

How my energy animated them without my knowing is admittedly troubling. It is an effort that should take some degree of concentration, at the very minimum.

Edited 2019-10-22 03:57 (UTC)

[ Qubit inspects the now-lifeless bones, poking at them with his toe. That Carlisle can de-animate things he reanimated is a good sign - it shows he can exert some control over the transfer. RIP Shittybones, you will be missed. (You won't.) ]

Interesting. What sort of energy is this, exactly? Magic power, life force? Where does it come from? Do your other spells draw from the same reservoir?

[Carlisle puts up a hand in a whoa, one thing at a time fashion now that he's on the receiving end of a string of questions.]

It is eksth'alva. Er, magical energy. Though it is technically life energy, as well, depending on who translates it. So... both. Most of what I do does draw from that reservoir, which is... er.

[Pointing out that it's unusual for someone like him to be drawing off something that's technically life energy does not bode well for his chances of being able to avoid the topic of what he is forever.]

[ Yeah, Carlisle, see how you like it! ]

[ Being a stickler for pronunciation, Qubit repeats the term to make sure he's got it. ] Eksth'alva. [ And he even gets the glottal stop on the first try! Not bad. Anyway, back to the theoretical deep dive. ]

Which is...?

[ He has literally no idea what you're trying not to say, my dude. ]

Nothing. It's nothing.

[Except it absolutely is, and the nervous twist in his brow says so. His eyes avert themselves, landing on the remains of Ol' Shittybones, his throat tightening. He couldn't fully control his aural influence before, and he seems to have an even worse handle on it now, his abilities reaching into both the living and the dead. Qubit has been patient with him, and Carlisle knows good and well he can't deal with this on his own.

He'd sequester himself away as he did years ago, hoping to spare those around him from tragedy, but where is there to go in Anchor? Where can he hide that his compulsion cannot reach? It reached so many in Bear Den, after all, well into the hills and the valley below. He cannot let it happen again, no matter how much he does not want to talk about what he is -- what he's done. Maybe Qubit could help, but only if he knows what it is he's dealing with.

Carlisle always told those who came to his confessional for help that they need only ask for it. They weren't Longinmouths though, people with a bloodline to live up to... but frankly, even he's hardly a Longinmouth at this point.]

Well, it- it is something. [He's back to wringing his hands together, his fingers grasping at themselves as though it'd help him think.] The manipulation of that energy in such a way that it- that it animates the undead, I... I shouldn't be capable of it. It is unusual. Largely unheard of.

Edited 2019-10-26 06:24 (UTC)

[ Generally speaking, concepts like eksth'alva are too abstract to be much use to Qubit, since they're so difficult to pin down and observe and quantify, but he's trying to get a handle on it. The immediate hurdle lies in how the term sort of conflates life with magic, when to him they're clearly not equivalent at all. Drawing on "life energy" would be weird for Carlisle, what with the fact he's not alive and all, so framing this stuff as "magical energy" is a little less of a stretch.

As he tries to extrapolate what makes this so unusual, he finds himself revisiting the "life" definition, but... even then, it doesn't quite track. ]

How do you mean? I was under the impression the undead were fairly common where you're from - is it something other than eksth'alva that powers them, usually? - Or do you mean that you in particular shouldn't be able to do it?

[His frame stiffens; his fingers, entwined with one another, curl in response. Don't make him say it, Qubit. You know. He knows you know.]

Me in particular.

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