MINGLE ∞ LOG — June 2025

[thediadem]

Mingle ∞ Log

No Lifeguard on Duty

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Jump ⇅ :: Intro — Prompts — NPC Interaction

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 ∞

Travel — Map — Setting

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.

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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.

Questions? Ask here

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Comments

Jonathan Strange | Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell | ota!

[kingsroads]

I. too retro for the term 'robot'
Jonathan Strange has absolutely no idea what the hell an android is. So, as he finds one of the deactivated androids sitting in a poolsite hut, his first instinct is to poke around. Obviously this thing isn't human. Look at it, there's no skin. But as for what it is and what it was doing before coming here...that is interesting.

Strange doesn't have the tools to disassemble this thing. So he'll try magic instead. The android is subjected to heat, cold, water, plant growth, anything to try and pry part of it apart or just to see how it will react to this. Any spell, no matter how silly, is going to be tried simply in the interest of curiosity.

Needless to say, it's not very subtle. Anybody magically sensitive can tell that something odd is happening in the tent. But just about anybody can notice the smell of burning electronics. Poke your head in and you'll see Jonathan Strange, little frown on his face as he looks at the android. Anybody arriving will get a little nod before he asks, "Have you heard the story of the Mechanical Turk?"

II. ice ice breaker
"What's the story behind one of your scars?"

Strange is sitting at the bar, frown on his face, as he repeats the question asked. The only concession to the poolside atmosphere he's made is that he's rolled up his shirtsleeves, though some neon green thing that's in theory an appletini is sitting on the bar next to him. At the question, Strange looks over his arms, frowning still as he muses,

"I don't really have many noticeable scars. Oh, there are nicks and scrapes here and there—one obtains those simply by living life. But even with my time in the peninsula, I never obtained anything important enough for a story."

He looks over to the person next to them and gives them a cavalier little shrug. "Is that it? Or do I ask for another question until there's something worth answering?"

III. quiet time.
Jonathan Strange is a respectable gentleman. So considering there are ladies here, he's not going to swim in the pool. You can take the man out of the Regency Era, but you can't take the Regency Era out of the man, and this is a time when there are clearly defined beaches. This means that if there's a lady (or more generally a female-presenting person) going for a little dip in the pool, he'll unintentionally avert his eyes without really thinking about it.

One night, however, at about midnight, when he thinks there's nobody awake, he'll make his way to the pool itself. Of course, there is somebody awake because that's just how these things go. There's a nod, a pause, and a frown before Strange just gives in to ask,

"You wouldn't mind if I soaked my feet in the pool, would you? That wouldn't be a breach of propriety or anything of that like?"

Even now, even in this strange new world, he still hears the voice of Gilbert Norrell in the back of his head, urging him to be respectable, to put a good face to English magic.

IV. wildcard.
( hmu!! I'm fine with anything. )

i

[exarched]

It is not subtle at all! Though it is partially helped by the fact that G'raha has also been going from the various huts to inspect the androids on his own time.

He has yet to employ no such experiments, however, so as he draws close to this particular poolhut, the very active shifts in aether feels all too familiar. That heaviness in the air, a distinct burnt umber. He isn't the sort of sensitive that some of his colleagues are, but after over a century of practice, he is adept enough to guess when magic might be at play.

Or...mayhaps it's just the smell. Because something definitely does smell.

Poke his head in he does, nose slightly wrinkled with his tail twitching behind him. Though his brows raise at the question.

"I...cannot say that I have," he admits. G'raha glances between the man and the android in question. "Is this a similar contraption?"

[kingsroads]

"I thought it was at the start," he muses. "The Mechanical Turk is an automaton. It is a device that looks like a man, but made entirely of clockwork and machines. The device was created for one purpose: to play chess. I've never seen it myself, but I heard it was quite good."

A wry little smile crosses Strange's face as he muses, "Of course, I have not found anything approximating the clockwork seen in engravings of the Turk. Whatever powered these men, it must have been smaller and far more potent. I like your tail, by the way," just said completely out of nowhere. "Have you always had it?"

Or is this just a trick of the light? His mind seeing something that isn't there? Logically speaking, there's a chap with cat ears and a tail in front of him. But logically speaking, a lot of things don't make much logical sense here.

[exarched]

Unfamiliar as he is, G'raha listens carefully. What the other man describes certainly seems to fit the current situation rather well, so he can see why correlations would be drawn. Though there is a particular detail he finds interesting:

"To play chest? Solely to play chess?"

How...odd! Amusing, in a way. With the myriad of tasks that one might perform with that level of ingenuity. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes what a complicated algorithm that would be: to not only know the full breadth of rules and play-styles, but to adjust to any living opponent who are inevitably prone to error. Hm.

"When you say 'clockwork'--"

Oh.

Oh? G'raha blinks once, glancing behind himself like he's seeing his tails for the first time.

"--Ah, yes. I was, um, I was born with it." Ahem. "Thank you."

At least it's a compliment? He is getting the distinct impression that Miqo'te or their equivalents don't exist on the worlds of many of his new contemporaries.

"Are you familiar at all with 'The Clockwork City of Goug'?"

[kingsroads]

"I am not," Strange says, with a little shake of his head. There's a moment before he asks, "Is it one of the realms of Faerie? There is a distinct chance I might visit it, if so."

The Clockwork City of Goug certainly sounds like something a fairy might decide to name their realm. Strange knows that they can be capricious, focusing on small details or certain parts of an aesthetic at the expense of things like 'a functioning government' or 'a healthy level of obsession.'

And aside from that...well, this man has cat ears and a tail. Those certainly seem fairy, even if this conversation is going too smoothly for Strange to think he's actually a fairy.

[exarched]

The realms of Faerie? G'raha's mind immediately goes back to Norvrandt and Il Mheg. The fae folk had since taken over the realm after the fall of the last kingdom, turning it into a land of colorful whimsy.

"It was not, no. It was the predecessor to a powerful, technologically driven empire on my own star. They were known for their particular type of automations and machines. Though now I am equally curious about your experience with faeries."

There is no judgment, only open curiosity. And completely unaware that he might be pegged as one of the fae folk.

[kingsroads]

"I have traveled through multiple fairy realms," Strange explains, with a wry smile. This Clockwork City sounds completely different to something that Strange had ever experienced. Automations? Machines? That's entirely foreign to him. He has ten billion questions about said city, but he'll answer G'raha's questions for the moment.

"Admittedly, some of them were realms with names I can't remember. But quite a lot of my experiences are the same. Fairies are interested in magicians, yet capricious. They are vain creatures, easy to flatter, but their whims and moods are fleeting. One must be careful with dealing with the fae and not think of them as they do mortal men."

[exarched]

Now that is not what he was expecting. Multiple realms? And the way he shares that revelation makes it sound as if such a thing practically normal to him. G'raha's tail starts to wiggle back and forth behind him with growing excitement. Though what he says does strike a similar chord to Il Mheg, that is but one realm.

Multiple.

G'raha clenches his hands into fists to get a hold on said excitement as he holds them up to his chest.

"To speak of travel and experiences with ease...are such feats commonplace on your star?"

There are still androids to discuss, but--...this is of special interest.

iii, you can stick with prose if that's easier!

[frostfist]

[ Wriothesley's always been more of a night owl, preferring the quiet that comes after dark to get most of his work done. Hard to shake old habits even in a new place, so it's past when most people would ordinarily be asleep that he makes his way to the pool, stripping off shoes and socks and most of his outerwear before stepping into the pool and doing a quick lap around. It's unbearably hot still, and he's never been particularly shy.

Which is why, when he hears footsteps approach, he turns to offer a friendly smile to the newcomer instead of sinking deeper into the water. ]

Sure. You could even go for a swim if that's really what you wanted.

[ There's plenty of space, after all. ]

[kingsroads]

Thank you for the offer of a swim, but I must decline, [ said with a little nod. To start with, Strange doesn't have the right attire and he's a bit hesitant to get his current clothes wet without having a set of clothes or two to wear if they're ruined. But more importantly, he can't fuckin swim.

(Not that he will tell Wriothesley that, of course. Plenty of people can't swim! It's perfectly normal to not be able to swim, he's certainly not feeling a bit shown up by the fact that this man can swim!) ]

I've simply been on my feet all day exploring this place, [ he muses, as he sits down at the edge of the pool and starts to take off his shoes and stockings. He's been on his feet exploring the place and also straight up destroying an android but hey, exploring counts. ] Might as well indulge while it's relatively quiet.

i

[haemophile]

Drawn by the acrid smell of burning rubber and scorched metal, Laszlo pokes his head into the cabana, though he's terribly disappointed when it's just some chap doing nothing of real interest.

With an automaton.

Well, maybe there's something of interest here.

He knits his brow, shaking his head. "That would involve it actually doing anything. It's not quite as impressive that it's just stood there."

[kingsroads]

"You have a point," Strange admits, with a little shrug. "And to be fair, I haven't seen the Turk myself. I heard stories of Napoleon playing it," which is accompanied by a very British scoff and eye roll. Jonathan Strange very much does not like Napoleon (and by extension, a lot of France, sorry any French people in-game).

"And I know it made a stop in England before that—I don't know if Lord Castlereagh played against it, but he mentioned seeing the Turk to me one time during one of our conversations." Strange is just namedropping the Foreign Secretary like everybody has casual conversations with high-ranking members of the Cabinet.

"But it is the only thing I can think of to compare this thing to. It seems far too...alien, I suppose, to entirely wrap my head around."

[haemophile]

Laszlo has been so far removed from British high society for so long that it sinks in slowly, his eyes ticking to different points of this man's whole bearing as he speaks, but the casual way he mentions a fucking viscount is what ultimately does it: suddenly, Laszlo is temporarily blinded by a white-hot rage, and the only word he knows is murder as all other thoughts are pushed out of his brain.

He pauses, blinks, and represses it. It takes him another second to catch up to whatever the fuck has just been said.

"It's certainly unusual," he says mildly, though he's unable to keep the distaste out of his expression. More to the point: "What are you doing to it?"

[kingsroads]

Entirely unaware of the distaste in Lazlo's expression, Strange turns back to the android. He lets out an aggravated little sigh before answering, "Experimenting, I suppose? I want to see this thing do something—or at least, I want to see it open up or change enough that I know what it's function was. But at the moment, it remains annoyingly obtuse."

Strange raps his knuckles on the side of the android then winces because ouch, he just rapped his knuckles on metal, that hurts. He shakes his hand out before musing,

"There are so many of these things here. They had to have a purpose."

[haemophile]

Laszlo slips fully into the tent, eying the automaton thoughtfully. He hadn't really thought that much about their purpose, more curious about their base components, but it's a fair enough question.

"Decoration?" Since they seem to be doing fuck all. The one tending bar makes that unlikely, though, and Laszlo begins to slowly circle the automaton to get a better look at it.

He pauses and glances up briefly, getting an idea. If he had a small army of man-sized creatures, he would have a specific use for them.

"Have you checked if it's equipped?"

[kingsroads]

Unfortunately for Laszlo, Jonathan Strange's mind doesn't live in the gutter.

"Equipped with what?"

A sword? A pistol? There are plenty of things this man could possibly be equipped with, Strange has absolutely no idea what the vampire's implying.

[haemophile]

Laszlo's expression is skeptical for a moment as he tries to work out if this is a joke. When he realizes it's not, he rotates his hand in the air to indicate mild impatience.

"Equipped. True to form. Structurally accurate." He extends an open palm like he is presenting the obvious. "I'm asking if it has a cock."

II. Ice Breaker

[positivelyroomy]

Left to his own devices, Martin found himself seated at the bar with Thomas. It wasn’t for the alcohol; he’d known for a long time that he was a mopey drunk, but the conversation was interesting enough that he hardly noticed how many cocktails the android had made for him until it was too late and he was giggling like a schoolboy at the worst of jokes. The cooler evening temps are a relief and no signs of imminent danger, and he is happy.

That is, until Jonathan Strange sidles up to the bar dressed for a stuffy parlor. Martin sips his drink, his attention only politely curious, as the man orders his own. His nose might just crinkle in sympathy when the appletini handed over is so vibrant it might as well be luminescent. Thomas initiates ice-breaker.exe, and for a few rounds, that happy buzz propels him with little friction. And then, scars are mentioned, and Strange starts rambling.

The only other person he’d known to speak so freely yet say so little of consequence was Peter, who was purposely obtuse just to annoy him. Martin lets out a deep sigh when it seems he’s being directly addressed, giving Jonathan a fuzzy little frown. He's honestly killing the vibe a little bit. Rude.

“It’s a way to get to know one another, not some great philosophical debate. Be nice to Thomas, he’s trying,” Martin pauses to raise his glass in acknowledgment of the bartender, who is indeed just a little guy trying. “Cheers, mate. Maybe one more of these and I’ll call it?” Martin adjusts his very breezy, obnoxiously patterned button-up and mutters loudly enough for this guy to hear, "Who isn't emotionally scarred here?"

[kingsroads]

The blithe, devil-may-care attitude in Strange's tone of voice tells Martin two things. One: it is entirely likely that Strange isn't being purposefully obtuse, he's talking just to talk. Two: Jonathan Strange is a yapper.

"I am being nice to him," he points out, with a little hmmph. "But that does not change the fact that the questions could be better. Besides, I take offense to that statement about emotional scars. Some of us are doing just fine."

Says the man firmly in denial. Strange takes a sip of his appletini, winces a little bit at the strength of the alcohol, then sets it back down.

"Surely there are more thorough ways to get to know each other than what boil down to trivial matters."

[positivelyroomy]

It’s like he’s back in his first year in the archives all over again. Knowing how John had been then and knowing who he is now should have struck that bleeding heart of Martin’s. But he’s tipsy, and a bit of a bitch. And Strange likes to hear the sound of his own voice. The little hurrumph says it all, plain as day.

His brows furrow a bit as he sips his drink through a day-glo orange straw, and if Strange can see past the tint of Martin’s sunglasses, he’ll note the man squinting (more and more). “Some of us are doing fine. That someone wouldn’t take offense,” he points out, tone brightly matter-of-fact. “But you have. How weird.”

Attention is temporarily diverted from being a bitch to thanking Thomas for his final drink of the evening. Though it is the same order, it will not be the same experience. Damn, Thomas. Get it together.

“I– I mean, yes, but these are just your basic ice-breaker questions. What would you ask? Go on.”

[kingsroads]

"One's name, to start with," Strange muses. Blissfully unaware of that squint and unconcerned of that judgement, Strange continues to bitch right back. "Or one's place of origin! Obviously you are English, I don't need to ask that question to you, but I've mentioned concepts that I thought everyone should know, only to be met with confusion. It is ridiculous that no one here knows of John Uskglass—"

Wait a moment. Martin is English. All of the Englishmen he's talked to here have not known who John Uskglass is. Ergo, there is a very high chance Martin also has no idea who Strange is talking about.

Strange gives Martin a look of slight affront, like it's Martin's own fault he won't recognize the name, before grumbling, "...and you probably do not know of Uskglass either. Urgh! Why do I bother?"

He grumpily slams back some of that appletini like he's taking a shot.

III Quiet Time

[thetruefocus]

Charles has decided to stay at the resort for a few days to indulge himself in some finery and quiet before being forced back into a state of being poor and in pain from too many voices in his head. This is truly a vacation and he won't stay forever, it will get him too used to having the escape, but he felt he deserved a bit in the cabins. He is relaxed and comfortable here because of it, and has even learned how to grill a little in able to feed himself. He's had a few chats with Thomas. It's been pleasant. He got some actual sleep.

But he is used to being up late these days given his situation, and there are some people on the grounds he can hear that shake him out of rest. It's no problem, just part of being a telepath, but it means he wheels out to take a quiet night dip. He's in the water as he gets a little self-conscious about it during the day, but if there is only one or two people around, he's less concerned.

The weightlessness of floating is rare for him and he uses his arms to stay afloat, glancing over when asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, that is what it's here for. No propriety to worry about, especially with it only being us at the moment."

[kingsroads]

"Wonderful," Strange says, with a little nod. He sits down at the edge of the pool as he starts to undo his shoes, take off his stockings, and roll up his trousers. Strange's attire is still absolutely Regency era, though it's taken a bit of a beating thanks to the driving. Even without the attire, his body language is pure and concentrated 'I don't know how to act around pools'—he's out of his element, but trying hard not to seem that way.

"I know that some will say I am being silly," Strange muses, as he continues to take his shoes and stockings off. "Worried about propriety, in a place like this? But in a situation completely unfamiliar, one clings to the smallest bits of familiarity they can find."

And hot damn is all of this unfamiliar. Cars are unfamiliar. Give a man a moment or two to adjust!

As he slips his feet in the pool, Strange lets out a sigh of relief. Odd as all of this may be, the water feels fantastic.

robots

[mechatheism]

Viktor, conversely, has a wealth of engineering knowledge, and a fascination with all of the technology he's never seen before. Sure, he may have never had the chance to be elbow-deep in this kind of automaton, but he knows enough. He's spent some time attempting to fix them, and his attention is caught by an attempt that may or may not be going very well.

So as not to upset anyone with his appearance, Viktor is currently wearing a cloak, the only indication of a face two glowing yellow eyes within the depths of the hood. It does not hide the fact that he's eight feet tall, and needs to stoop to enter the tent, where his suspicions are confirmed--there are concerning things happening to one of the androids in here.

"That doesn't seem to be working."

He has not, in fact, heard this story, and the lack of acknowledgement of it might be tacit permission for Jonathan to tell it, especially if it will distract him from producing more machine smoke. Viktor attempts to be gentle about it.

"May I try?"

[kingsroads]

Jonathan 'world's worst attention span' Strange is ready and waiting to yammer on about the Mechanical Turk. However, when he sees Viktor, a large eight foot tall man(??) enveloped in a cloak, any yammering about history or mechanics vanishes instantly, replaced with one overwhelming intrusive thought: he wants to take that hood off.

So tall? Yellow eyes? Something's up here. That man is obviously not human. Strange wants to find out what or who he is. He can keep his impulse under control for a moment. After all, this is something where he'll need to plan what his next step is.

"These mechanics are a bit beyond my expertise," shrugs the man who knows these mechanics are absolutely beyond his expertise but still doesn't want to admit it. "So yes, feel free to try and get it to do something. Though I do want you to tell me whatever you do in the hopes that I can recreate it with my own skills."

Most likely his own magic. After all, Strange is certain he can find a way to replicate whatever this man can do.