modblob: (Default)
Mods ([personal profile] modblob) wrote in [community profile] redmarsshit2019-10-24 11:41 pm

redshift: tdm #5

Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

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

▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.

a. don't be a sap.

Good morning, October 25th! Whether you're a confused new arrival or a current resident, you probably had some plans for today, right? Grab breakfast, visit a friend, pick some fruit, explore a new part of the massive city.

Well. Too bad. Because, as every single bot in the city will be telling you the moment you show your face, it's GOOP FESTIVAL DAY! What? You've never heard of it? Preposterous, everyone knows about the Goop Festival, it's one of the most anticipated holidays in Anchor! Haven't you been preparing for this for a week now?

The Goop Festival is a harvest celebration, in particular, a celebration of the sap-producing trees that grow wild in the Park, thick around the edges of the south side of the lake. The bots have been hard at work setting up the festival grounds in the shade of the trees in the balmy fall temperatures. There are spiles tapped into trees with buckets placed underneath that are already half-full of a thick, viscous, amber-colored sap. The bots have also set up troughs of shaved ice with long sticks nearby, with which they will demonstrate for excited residents (you are excited, right?) how to cool the sap in the ice and wrap it around the stick to make it a sort of taffy candy. That's not the only sweet surprise waiting, either.

A long table set up in the grass is loaded down with all sorts of delicious sap-related goodies, ranging from cupcakes with thick globs of sap-flavored frosting to sap-flavored jerky to sap sugar candies, and just about anything else you can imagine. There are a wide variety of offerings that would taste good coated, flavored, or glazed with the sap, which tastes sort of like a caramelized toffee. Another table is laid out that has row upon row of cups, each half-full of the sap, heated lightly to a thinner consistency and served similarly to hot chocolate - at least, if hot chocolate gave you a floaty, happy, hazy sort of feeling. Everything made with this sap does, actually, with the cups of pure sap having a stronger effect and items with less sap content having barely any effect at all.

Does this not sound like your cup of weird tree sap? Too bad. This is the GOOP FESTIVAL, and everything is shut down for this lovely paid vacation day. Spa? Locked down. Kitchens? Locked. Bar? Nope, totally shut down and the server bots are all down at the park. VR Gaming? Too bad, the computers are all shut down. Even roaming the halls and trying to stay out of the way won't help much...be prepared to be dragged down to the park to participate in this mandatory festival! Isn't it exciting?


b. familiar ground.

Every year in Anchor near the end of October, there's a very strange interaction between the protective dome over the city and seasonal radiation surges that happen in the wastelands. Some complicated combination of refraction and reflection means that for the last few days of the month, residents will experience some of the more benign effects of the red shift inside the city.

Did we say benign? Because while there may not be any dangerous radiation to melt your skin off, there are some mind-bending dangers. Characters experiencing the shift will find the world becomes distorted, warped, impossible to navigate; they are enveloped in auditory and visual hallucinations, and can become so disoriented that they can't even recognize people they've known for years. And characters will find that the citywide shift brings in slivers of other universes, little slices of places characters have never seen before...or places so familiar they make the heart beat hard with joy or fear.

And just like in the wastelands, the things that show up in these shifts are all too real. Characters may find themselves walking through a door into a scene straight from home, or from someone else's home. Whether it's a favorite place to share with a new friend, or the nightmare landscape you almost died in, complete with the monster that almost killed you, be careful. Everything you experience here is real, and if you die in the shift, you die for real.

Of course, the city has its own safety measures in place - residents experiencing the hallucinations and appearances of items and places from other worlds may find themselves locked down in the room they're in, trapped with the otherworldly effects of the shift.


c. the virus.

A few weeks ago, people in Anchor started getting a case of the sniffles. While some of the earliest cases might be clearing up, there are still a few people suffering, or people freshly infected by those who were sick earlier, including some of the new arrivals who may not even be feeling it yet.

Which may make the cause of some unexpected 'glitches' around the city a little unclear. Residents who are feeling the effects of the illness, or who are infected but not showing symptoms yet (or anymore) will find that their access to certain parts of the city are restricted. Suddenly, automatic doors aren't opening for them, as if they were ghosts, particularly when they try to access anything that may facilitate transmission of the virus. Suddenly, only some of the residents of the city will find they can't get into half of the MedBay, or the spa, the kitchens, the VR or games rooms, the bar...anywhere people gather or eat or sit close together.

Residents may put together that it's related to the illness some of them have been experiencing over the past few weeks, but it might take a while, since these safety and security measures are affecting people who are showing no symptoms yet. Be prepared for a few days of paranoia while seemingly perfectly healthy people are locked out of common areas. What does the computer know that residents don't? Are these people security risks? Is it a system glitch? What could be going on?


c. the network.

Need to get hold of someone, call for help, ask the city at large a question? Need to warn a friend not to leave their apartment unless they want to be forcibly press-ganged into the Goop Festival? Maybe you need to hold your sat phone up to whatever crazy thing you're seeing and send out a recording to double-check if your eyes are deceiving you and what you're looking at is real?

Whatever the reason, the network is going strong, so feel free to include a post to it in your top-levels.


Mod Note: The "familiar ground" prompt will be active between October 29th and October 31st; "the virus" prompt will be active until the next introductory mingle, which will be kicking off the second part of the illness plot.


orcnorris: (I ᴄᴀɴ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴏɴᴇs.)

Varok Saurfang | World of Warcraft

[personal profile] orcnorris 2019-10-27 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[a]

Saurfang is a little too old and dour to be excited about something called the Goop Festival, but once he’s been herded over to the Park, he does find himself slightly relieved to find that it’s just about tree sap. Having already discovered that the rest of the facility is more or less closed, he stalks about the festival grounds, looking rather disgruntled but not causing a fuss. He’s not going to participate – despite everything he's been through, he still has a little dignity to lose – but it won't do him any harm to watch the other residents. Some of them even seem to be having fun, although the only real activity is eating things.

If someone's off to the side like he is, he'll even try to engage in a little conversation. Not much else to do.

“You celebrated this before?”

[b]

He had forced himself to watch the World Tree burn. He deserved to; it would be another shame that would follow him to the long-awaited grave. The sight of it now, therefore, is all too familiar, although the fact that it's sitting in the middle of a hallway in Anchor is a little odd. But he had not been so close to it before - he'd watched from across the water, where the heat had been the only bearable thing about it. Now, trapped in the corridor, he wouldn't be able to get far enough away.

He's been told that he can't always trust his senses in this place, but he doesn't know what else to do right now. He backs himself against the double doors that have somehow locked from the inside, shields his face, and tries to come up with a plan. Smashing the doors seems like the only option; there's no way to put the Tree out and nothing else that might shield him from the approaching fire.

Saurfang turns and takes a few steps back, aiming to rush the doors, when they actually open from the other side and someone else steps inside the burning hallway -

“No!” he lunges for them, to stop the door from closing or to knock them out of the corridor, but neither plan succeeds. They're both trapped, now.
abheirrant: (❧ allow me to explain)

SAURFANG OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN also B

[personal profile] abheirrant 2019-10-27 08:25 am (UTC)(link)
Things on Carlisle's to-do list for the day: find some mugs, maybe a basin, and get to experimenting with the sap he stole collected from the obnoxious 'Goop Festival' the constructs had forced them all to attend. Now that the robots are no longer running through every hallway and escorting people to the park whether they like it or not, he's finally able to escape his quarters to go looking for the rest of the supplies he needs for making tea from the tree sap. Tea sap, as he is calling it. He's fond of that pun now, but he might not be so warm on it if this all turns out to be a waste of his time.

Unfortunately, as he's meandering through one of the corridors away from the mess hall, his arms laden with no less than eight coffee mugs, he finds himself face to face with a massive green fellow, one who is all muscle and teeth and terror as he barrels toward the unsuspecting clergyman. If he had enough to think, Carlisle would what any normal person would in that situation (cower in unadulterated panic), but as it is, he doesn't even have enough time to react.

Saurfang slams into him in his haste to reach the doors, but they click closed behind him a fraction of a second beforehand, the lock sliding into place to keep them both inside. The impact knocks Carlisle back against them -- he drops every last one of the mugs he was carrying, all of them clattering to the ground, most of them breaking upon impact. So much for that venture.

"What are—"

He cuts himself off immediately, suddenly aware of the massive fire engulfing the hallway. Had that been there before? Or had his being jarred so suddenly knocked some sense into him? And how much sense did one need to realize there was a massive, burning tree in the middle of the hall?