Mingle ∞ Log
No Lifeguard on Duty
Summary
What's going on?
An
unexpected heat wave in mid-June, coupled with the cycling shutdown of all air conditioning units in motels across the Blocks, has made the summer unbearable. Meanwhile, the ever-eager
storm chaser,
Felix Bjurstrom, has uncovered a
fancy resort with a pool in a diffusion zone only 1 hour out from Panorama. Lucky, right? Well...kind of. It's got some quirks.
When is this happening?
June 10 - 30
What should I know?
- This area is one of many diffusion zones that appear throughout the planet.
- A storm chaser is someone dedicated to studying the cosmic phenomenon in the Diadem. Felix is a pioneer in his field.
- A winding highway filled with old empty barrels will take you to the zone.
- Characters can travel with a friend to save on gas! Parking's limited, so it might not be a bad idea.
- At any given time, there's max several dozen visitors. Most work long hours, some are traveling through the diffusion zones, and others prefer not to risk the drive or waste precious gas, so it won't draw a huge crowd (but there's still a crowd!).
- This is a mingle rather than an event. Plot-heavy elements will be minor. The game's first proper event will be posted in July!
What does my character know?
- Having lost his phone, Felix will spread the word using good old-fashioned printed posters that he's put up around Panorama. A young woman is seen helping him. They appear to be close. Some say that's his daughter.
- Though the timing is impossible to predict accurately, Felix believes that due to this zone's unusual proximity to an anchor point, it has a high chance of persisting for 2-3 weeks.
- Directions are printed on the posters, though characters are also free to stumble across the zone by accident.
∞ Links ∞
Introduction
The resort looks like your typical upscale vacation spot: a beautiful pool, lovely cabins, and plenty of pool chairs. The sky is
perpetually nighttime and there are
two moons. One moon is smaller than its sister and glows purple. The other looks like the Earth's moon. The weather is
pleasantly warm. In fact, conditions are almost
too perfect.
Other
fluxdrifts are here, too, and you might come across them, all of whom are taking advantage of the pool. They'll converse superficially with you and will come and go randomly. You'll want to keep a close eye on your belongings. Other than cooling off, this isn't a bad place to start making connections. Life in the Diadem is better when you've got allies if not friends.
Just outside the resort is a
spacious parking lot, designed for visitors. Nobody's following parking rules so put your car anywhere it fits. If you get blocked in, well, that's a problem for when you leave.
At the end of June, the diffusion zone will flicker and morph into an unremarkable overgrown park, long abandoned to the decades.
Prompts
As you wander around, you discover deactivated androids in many of the poolside huts. These androids cannot be mistaken for any organic species: their chassis is metal, and their heads are shiny. Circuits and wires are visible. But each is dressed distinctly human in a way that borders on disturbing. You spot lipstick drawn on some of the metal faces, as though they're playing dress up...or as if they don't realize they aren't human. One android is frozen in place with a diary clutched in its hands. Another has a hairbrush for its nonexistent hair.
Something seems to have destroyed them—perhaps a powerful EMP wave that knocked them all out. All except one.
The Bartender
The poolside bar is at the eastern end of the resort. There are plenty of seats. A few are occupied by deactivated androids. The bartender is also an android and appears to be the only functional one in this place. He speaks with a modulated voice and has a neutral accent. He exhibits the following behaviors if you sit at his bar:
- Icebreaker. Whether you're alone or with a companion, he'll try to get you all to be friends, asking random self-generated icebreaker questions. He'll be visibly disappointed if you don't play along.
- Bartending. While cheerful, he can't make the correct drink: it's always too strong, incredibly weak, added salt instead of sugar, messed up the ice. He's obviously doing his best, but it's just not working. The harder he tries, the worse he performs until it becomes a comedy of errors with stuff falling over, ice dumped in your lap, champagne corks flying, and any number of slapstick mishaps. You can help him out by mixing the drink yourself.
If you're nice to him, he'll introduce himself as Thomas Lustras. He's happy to
tell you about his son. Strange, you think, but who says androids can't have paternal instincts? Yet, when the android takes out his wallet to show you a photo of his son—named Edward Lustras—the picture is that of a
human child, roughly 5 years old, in the arms of his
human father.
The driver's license in the same wallet confirms that Thomas is (was?) a real person. The picture on the license matches the human male in the photo. A half-scorched business card states that Thomas was a consultant at Outer Rim Resettlements. Thomas believes he's on a company retreat and wistfully declares he's eager to return home to his son.
Maybe don't look too closely. After all, this place will soon disappear. And so will he.
The Grill
It's not a vacation without a grill! Not a grillable item is in sight, though, so you'll have to rely on what you can bring out of Panorama. Some of the visiting drifters will pitch in to share, unloading hotdogs (some synthetic, others authentic, and some far past expiry), burger patties (same) and buns, and "kebabs" made of blocky frozen vegetable squares. The squares vaguely resemble corn, mushrooms, and pineapple. The texture is passable, like a flavor-infused block of tofu.
Fire up the grill and take turns grilling. You'll also have to manage the propane. The grill's also prone to sputtering out, requiring regular minor repairs to get it back up and going. Any loose bolts or screws can be taken out of the dead androids to replace the rusty ones in the grill. You're unsure if you should feel uncomfortable doing that or what, but it is a solution.
Parking Woes
Like any crowded event, the parking lot can get chaotic, and the lawlessness of the diffusion zones doesn't help. While some are happy to help barbecue, others are more interested in picking fights over who got to the parking space first. It won't take much for a fistfight to break out, and a knife fight isn't out of the question, either, though nobody'll be killed (this time).
You can let the troublemakers beat each other, or you can try to intervene if somebody who doesn't deserve it is getting harassed. Just avoid causing too much of a scene. Breaking noses is acceptable; gutting someone head to toe is not. There are Enforcers visiting the zone, and if you interfere with their nice pool time, they won't hesitate to haul away everybody involved and make you sit in jail for a few days.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thediadem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diademlogs2025-06-08 10:11 am
icebreakers!
[ Although being snapped at to invite herself into a conversation is a little weird, Nashua shrugs and acquiesces without offense. She's poured herself a beer, after giving up on Thomas's attempts, and was quietly lingering over a half-finished sketch of their androidian companion, pencil in hand, prior to this.
Oh, well. Thomas is odd and a bit pushy, but he's nice. He's programmed to be, after all. She answers with a smile. ]
I dunno. I guess being tall is pretty cool? My dad's tall, which is where I got it from.
[ "Fantastic!" Thomas says, eagerly pouring Henry some tequila. "Pizza or tacos?" ]
Tacos, I guess. [ Toying with her pencil, Nash decides to help Henry out. ] Hey, Tom? Can you get me some ice from the walk-in fridge?
[ "It would be my delight, young miss."
There's the faint, eerie sound of wheels whirring and hydraulics whooshing as he picks up speed. As soon as Thomas has rounded the corner, Nashua takes his place behind the bar and is pouring Henry some ice water. She even drops a little hibiscus-patterned paper umbrella into it before sliding it across to him. ]
no subject
That said, the mask slips back on, inches by inches, knowing the he cannot afford the same disregard for the woman who's aiding him. His blunt manner is smoothed down, and he offers her a purposefully apologetic-looking half-grin.
(She had seemed to be drawing something, which pulls Henry’s seeking gaze for a moment to the sketch, interest piqued. But he says nothing about it for now.)
His glass is finally being poured with the much-requested-water, which returns his attention, anyway. He takes it, appreciative of the coolness it radiates against his skin.]
Thanks. That was clever.
no subject
[ She smiles a curated customer service smile before returning to her seat on the other side of the bar. The jug of ice water is left within reach, in case he needs to fill up his glass. ]
Tom's nice, but he has no idea what he's doing. You can usually get away with helping yourself.
[ Why hadn't Nashua taken her own advice?
She hadn't wanted to hurt the android's feelings. ]
no subject
So you've already had some experience with his useless android?
[Okay, maybe the customer service smile and "useless" don't go hand-in-hand with each other, but it is probably the sincerest expression of his true personality as he continues to smooth out the wrinkles into its default shape.]
Fortunately, all I need is water. Not much of a drinker, myself. I wouldn't even know where to start.
no subject
[ She says, taking in his blond hair and blue eyes and jumping with them across the finish line of conclusions. There's a sympathetic lilt to the question, a that sucks — but kindly said. She will happily take this uniquely handsome indoctrinated virgin-slash-probable-polygamist under her wing, like Aladdin inviting Jasmine onto his magic carpet. ]
There's beer, but that's kind of an acquired taste. [ She jabs her mechanical pencil at the array of shiny beer taps. ] Good on a hot day, but bitter. Imagine bread with nothing on it but as a drink.
[ She follows up by indicating the rows of bottles on the bar's back wall. Some are cylindrical and tall, some are short and squat, some are rectangular with pyramidic embellishments in the glass. If they weren't free, they would likely be ranging in price from expensive to exorbitantly expensive. ]
Champagne and wine are good if you're not used to it.
[ Another indicative little jab with the pencil to guide his attention as she moved from right to left across the wall. ]
Stuff like whiskey, scotch, bourbon, you should probably avoid. If someone serves you more than the width of your finger, be careful. Vodka or rum can be pretty tasty if you mix them with the right thing, but that can kinda convince you you've drank less than you have.
no subject
You sound like something of an expert.
[Or just someone who's worked around drinks, grew up around them, or drinks plenty herself.
But it is information that he idly tucks away, somewhere in the back of his mind, placed upon the dusty shelf of "might be useful someday, but doubtful." In that, he's appreciative, but otherwise relatively unaffected.]
I'm not... Mormon, though. [lol,] I was kept in a lab for twenty years — the head researcher didn't exactly invite me out to drinks on the daily.
[Dropping that information like he were speaking about the weather, he continues, eyes trailing from the pencil back to her face.]
And what about you? ...Bartender?
1/2
Spoiler: It's still sinking in. ]
Oh, yeah. I mean, I had a lot of jobs growing up. Did a bit of bartending in college, but turns out a shift until two is really counterproductive when you have class at eight—
no subject
That's a heck of a thing to admit casually. Later, Nashua is going to wonder if she should just start a conversation with "I can see ghosts". ]
Sorry, what? You were— What?
no subject
Could be both.]
I was kept in an underground lab for twenty years. Being here, in this place? It's my first taste of freedom in all that time.
[He is skipping the part where he went wheeling in an alternate dimension, assaulted by storms, for that doesn't count. He still doesn't know what that was really all about, and it isn't something anyone needs to know.]
Top secret test subject, and all that. [:)]
no subject
[ Her hair frizzes with the effort of tamping down at her surprise. How? Shut up, that's how. Anyway, she's trying to be cool. She's slowly figuring out people don't end up here unless they have weird-ass stories. What's one more? ]
Yeah, sure.
[ A polite smile, a brief awkward silence to match, as she tries to fill the space after what she's just heard.
Eventually — ] In that case, you should definitely let me pick out a drink for you. Nothing strong, I promise. You're, like, ten years late on teenage rebellion.
no subject
Henry doesn't like clouding up his mind with outside substances because his powers rely so heavily on focus and clarity of thought — even if applied maliciously. But teenage rebellion is such a compelling term, if even for just a brief moment. There was so much in HNL he wanted to rebel against, so many people he wanted to break, that maybe he can manifest at least the spirit of that discontent here. In small ways.
All that to say:]
Sure. Why not? What would you recommend?
no subject
Leaving the sketchpad and pencil abandoned, Nashua makes herself comfortable on the other side of the bar. In a glass that's neither tall nor short, she mixes a finger of vodka with a healthy amount of orange juice. The last thing she wants to do is make him sick, considering his admitted inexperience. The second last thing she wants to do is overwhelm him. Besides, he looks like he could use some Vitamin C. The lack of sunlight on his cheeks helps her accept his unique story as factual, but it's also a bit like peering directly at a fresh sheet of snow on a sunny day.
The glass is set down in front of him. Smoothly, on top of a napkin, like a professional. ]
Here. Try this. It's called a screwdriver.
no subject
Henry couldn't care less what's happened to Thomas, even if he did meet a fate straight out of a Tomb Raider game, and he's okay with being relatively left alone by the failure-of-bartender-android. While she moves around to the other side, he also can't help but be nosy; the sketchbook had caught his eye before, but now that it's left unattended, it's clear that the offer of a drink is still less of a curiosity than what she's drawn.
He leans over to inspect it as she sets the drink down, not even looking up at the screwdriver just yet.]
Do you like to draw?
no subject
[ She tries to keep the mild tripping over her words as natural as possible. She stays on the service side of the bar for the time being, propping herself against her arms and peering over where his attention is placed. ]
It's just something to keep my hands busy. You can look if you want, I don't mind.
[ It isn't like her sketches are terribly personal.
If Henry does opt to open the book, he'll see faces he may or may not recognise from life in Panorama. The art itself is quite competent, if a bit lackadaisical. Most of it is unfinished. It's a hobby, nothing more. ]