MINGLE ∞ LOG — June 2025

[thediadem]

Mingle ∞ Log

No Lifeguard on Duty

©

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.

©

©

©

⇅ Top

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

Main Navigation ::: ⇅ Top

Comments

emet-selch / ffxiv

[unsunder]

I. 🌙 RESORT(ING TO THEFT)

[ All Emet-Selch has to his name at this juncture is his threadbare and impractical Amourotine robe, and a coat that is much too heavy for the warm weather. Once he finally finds someplace to park in that godsforsaken lot, the next thing he does is start snooping around through the cabins for a change of clothes.

There are a few things to be found, but the real challenge here is finding something for his rather tall and long-limbed frame, so he turns just about every cabin upside-down before finding a suitcase stashed away in one that seems like it might work. Feel free to stumble just in time to watch him pull a very orange shirt from the suitcase. He eyes the tropical pattern on it with a raised eyebrow. ]

Beggars cannot be choosers, I suppose.

[ Said more to himself than anything else, though he does notice he has company a second later. ]

If you are in need of a fashion statement, I’m afraid you’re going to have to find your own.

[ This is his stupid ugly shirt, thank you! ]

II. 🌙 ICEBROKEN

[ Now dressed in a much more appropriate outfit (yes, shades and all), Emet-Selch can be found at the far end of the bar, sipping something tropical and fruity looking out of a glass adorned with one of those little paper umbrellas. He definitely made it himself.

The poor bartender is currently trying his best to make a drink for someone else and the process is not going well. There’s a clatter as the android stumbles into a mop bucket, knocking a slew of glasses from the countertop. He tries to put a bit of ice into a shaker and slips, the ice going flying to rain down on Emet-Selch and whoever happens to be sitting nearby in an impromptu hailstorm.

As if this has happened a lot since he’s been sitting here (it has), he lifts his free arm to shield his face. A sigh. ]

‘Tis so hard to find good help these days.

[ It’s only a matter of time before the stupid robot comes back around for icebreaker questions, too. Be prepared. ]

III. 🌙 WILDCARD

[ Down for whatever! If you want to plot something specific, drop me a PM, hit me up in the game discord, or drop a line at my CR meme comment.

Please also check out Emet’s soul sight permissions if you like! ]

resorting!

[catharses]

[ Suffering from the same fate of clothes far too heavy for the weather - even before the heat wave struck and absolutely exacerbated by the intermittent air conditioning - this is... an opportunity. One Sunday's still acquainting himself with since even as he picks up a book to read by the pool later, though curiosity about what's here in this mysterious place is really what's motivating him.

The next few rooms he walks by have doors either partially or all the way open, and a quick glance inside as he passes reveals others have been there before him. No matter; there's other rooms and truthfully, a bit of (relative) quiet away from everything else going on is nothing to complain about. There's sounds coming from the next doorway right before Sunday steps through it just in time to witness The Shirt. He pauses with his hand on the doorframe and gaze on the pattern only to raise an eyebrow at what's said. ]

That shirt is... [ a beat, then two, then a third while he contemplates - ] quite orange. I should think it'll fit in with the other outfits I've seen quite nicely.

[ It could be encouraging, though it's hard to say if Sunday is being sarcastic or genuine. He doesn't bother to give any further explanation either, though now he looks past the shirt to who'd spoken and finds a familiar face. Well. Maybe he could be slightly more helpful in that case. ]

Are there others in the suitcase? It never hurts to have options.

[ That much is honest curiosity given the wide variety of fashion he's seen around the resort and the city since arriving. ]

[unsunder]

[ He can’t say he expected a familiar face to stumble upon his pursuit of fashion. He lowers the shirt a little, ever-present frown tugging just a bit deeper. ]

Believe you me, I have looked. ‘Tis not easy to find things that will fit.

[ There is an exceptionally tall and lanky android sitting defunct in a chair in one corner of the room. Thanks for small favors, he supposes. Normally, he could just conjure up something of his own, but his creation magicks have proven as unreliable as his teleportation. He’d hate to have something he’s wearing suddenly vanish on him. ]

Between the orange and continuing to swelter, I will take the former.

[catharses]

[ That is - a good point. Even Sunday can hardly argue it as he looks again at the shirt with a hum for a reappraisal. ]

In that case, I suppose you could do much worse.

[ The horror of something not fitting correctly is universal - at least to Sunday who has many feelings about outfits. Ones which may not be useful but will stop him from lingering in the doorway only as he steps properly into the room to look into the suitcase. And inadvertently confirm his own words as it turns out since inside is a multitude of fabrics, colors, and patterns which make the orange seem rather plain.

That's to say nothing of his own clothes with the accents of blue and gold to some very neutral colors. Things Sunday wouldn't have considered subdued but seem so by this brief comparison as he picks up another shirt which seems like it could glow in the dark from its sheer brightness. ]

I'd heard about places which are there temporarily, these diffusion zones, but it seems strange to think this won't be here soon. Even with moving between reality and the Dreamscape at home the latter was still a constant.

[ For better or worse, and even in the aftermath of what he'd attempted. ]

[unsunder]

[ It would just be his luck that the one person (or robot, or whatever) in this whole place who was of similar height to him would have the absolute worst taste in fashion. He’s taking the least of all the evils.

His lips curl in a little sneer at the shirt Sunday holds aloft. Truly abysmal, and there are people here that he won’t be caught dead in that kind of attire in front of. He already knows the orange will net him some comments. ]

You have experience with something similar, then? Even if not so fleeting.

[ He drapes the shirt over his arm and starts rooting around for some pants. For a mercy, there’s a plain pair of khakis shoved near the bottom of the suitcase. ]

[catharses]

Yes, but it had more distinct portals than hoping one might stumble across it while driving.

[ The skepticism is deep in his voice since the directions to get here, while mostly straightforward, still seemed strange compared to a Dreampool. Then again, visitors to Penacony always found that odd on first introduction.

Better to put the offending neon item down since it also seems to be made of some impossibly stretchy material unfamiliar to him. It belongs right back in the suitcase never to be seen again while continuing to look through the other options as his thoughts turn back to more important(?) matters. ]

The Dreamscape is something more permanent even if it's created from memoria gathered over time. It was not quite reality either though it was linked to it as something a visitor could pass between, which is part of that feels familiar about being - [ with a wave of one hand to their surroundings - ] here.

[unsunder]

It sounds as though you come from quite an interesting place.

[ He’s not even saying that to humor him. A “Dreamscape” that people can move in and out of as they please does sound fascinating.

Leaving Sunday to his rummaging for the moment, Emet-Selch retreats to the washroom to change his clothes, ditching his heavy city clothes for his more tropical attire. Still, he inquires through the closed door– ]

This Dreamscape. What is its purpose? Purely recreation, or something else?

i. theft time

[elriche]

[ It doesn't take long for Stephen to slither out of the shadows surrounding the bar and emerge from the hedges alongside the path leading to the cabins. A glowing yellow eye at the center of his forehead takes in rows of tropical bungalows in the darkness, although the twin moons overhead provide a decent amount of visibility, as do the themed lanterns lining the paved trail. Stephen wonders again how this place works – celestial bodies only visible and accessible within a specific swath of land, like it's not just pieces of universes fused to this place, but entire pocket dimensions summoned to exist inside it.

Frustration rises again in his hundred hearts, the same way it has over the last couple... weeks? Months? Minutes, for all he knows – too much and too little time all at once. At least the days leading up to the battle with Ultron were focused on a singular goal, with all the resources available to him that he'd cultivated over centuries – but here? He's stymied. Unmoored.

For the hundredth time since he's gotten here, he extends tendrils of his awareness into the space around him, and for the hundredth time since he's gotten here, he recoils from the overwhelming, repellant taste – molecules charged with something dark and viscous, something that finds him unwelcome. Dangerous. He knows the more he prods it, the more of a threat it'll perceive, which is why he's tried to keep his powers tamped down, despite the strain of it. The pure uncomfortable building pressure of being small.

He pauses. There's something else in the air too. Not just the unusual shape of atoms in any typical Diffusion Zone he's crossed through, but something – different. Something at once exactly like the multiversal refugees that cross his path day-to-day, but... larger, somehow. Denser.

It's coming from the cabin nearby.

A chill pricks the back of Stephen's back, tiny porcupine quills that stand on end from pale pores of skin. Writhing limbs emerge from the sides of his torso and populate the darkness around him, as do ragged wings from his back, glowing eyes that multiply across his cheeks and shoulders. Massive horns crown his head as his silhouette crosses the threshold into the room, a thousand gleaming teeth–

To see a white-haired man, about the size of an NBA player. Holding a... Hawaiian shirt? ]

I'm fine, thanks, [ Stephen says, perfectly dry as he emerges into the light of the room – seamless, just a man in a cape, like the monster was never there. He narrows his eyes, incredulous, verging on annoyed. ] Do you have... an urgent audition for a Jimmy Buffet cover band?

[unsunder]

[ It did not take him long into his unwanted stay on this star to realize that something, or perhaps several somethings, had its hooks in this world. Something great and old and strange – older and stranger than even him.

The man that nigh on slithers into the room is not that, but he is certainly.

Well, he’s something, all right.

He may wear the shape of a man, but much like Emet-Selch himself, he isn’t one – at least not any longer. His aether is a mess, his soul somehow worse, and he can but catch small glimpses, slivers of what once started as human and now become distinctly other. Overcrowded, writhing. Awful.

That golden gaze lingers for only a second, then moves back to the shirt, deeply uninterested. He is not here to go poking around in people’s problems, and he is not going to touch this mess with a forty-fulm pole. ]

I’m certain that’s a very well-crafted joke, if I knew what you were talking about.

[ Dry. ]

Lest you wonder, I am more interested in the practicality of a change of clothes than the fashion.

[elriche]

Uh-huh. [ Stephen continues to look him over, with his basic human vision as well as the invisible probing tendrils of his extrasensory perception. A shimmering cloud swirls around the man, slow, pulsing, the shape of a galaxy – dimensional-charged particles packed so tightly it almost blinds him at their center. Stephen thinks back on the forces drawn through his summoning circle, over centuries of sustained obsession. Monsters of legend, godly patrons, cosmic sentience of astronomic proportions. All conquered, consumed.

But he's never seen anything like this. The same basic patterns as a human – the same as a fluxdrift, even – but... different. Denser. More massive, by powers of tens.

Which just makes the mundanity of the scene that much... weirder? Surreal? He frowns as the man – or whatever he is – proceeds with what appears to be a petty crime. Not that there's really such thing out in the diffusion zones, but– ]

You can't just conjure some? [ He asks, equally deadpan. ] From that limitless well of cosmic magic or whatever it is you're made of?

[ Cutting through the fat. He never liked small talk, anyway. ]

[unsunder]

[ Oh my god, Stephen. You can’t just ask people about their limitless well of cosmic magic.

If he’s at all surprised that he’s apparently been perceived on a level that usually comes with some sort of soul sight, Emet-Selch only shows it in the way his eyes tick back up to look at this man, one pale eyebrow arching just slightly.

He doesn’t pull punches, even having some idea of the power of the man he’s looking at, Emet-Selch will give him that much. ]

Can you? From that unfathomable mass of abject horrors making a mess of your soul, perhaps?

[ Fight him. (Don’t fight him.) ]

[elriche]

[ Oh my god, Emet. You can't just ask people about the unfathomable mass of abject horrors making a mess of their soul.

Stephen's eyes narrow at the slight – or warning shot, in truth. A growl, reverberating through the charged molecules and cosmic dust between them. I see you too. ]

I dressed for investigating, not bar-hopping, [ he replies, as he circles the other side of the bed – a flimsy barrier between them, but one he's wary to breach nonetheless. ] Figured if I can get a general sense of the trace matter in different diffusion zones, maybe I can pick out the similarities – and why they all ended up here.

[ He fixes his eyes on the tall man. Raises a brow. ]

How we ended up here.

[ There's an implication there. Not we, the fluxdrifts. We, those who shouldn't be caged. ]

[unsunder]

[ There’s an undeniable tension in the room after that trading of jabs, a pair of sharks cautiously circling one another, aware of but unsure just what they’re looking at.

That luminous, golden gaze tracks the movements of the other man, expression unchanged, as he moves around the bed. A bit of respectful distance, he notes. So, he’s nosy and sharp-tongued, but not wholly a fool.

“We,” he says, like they’re of the same breed. They most certainly are not, though if this prison can cage even Emet-Selch, there is not much else it cannot hold. ]

And you are?

i

[reverso]

[And Verso would've been more keen to leave this man be if he didn't instantly recognize him.]

Why can't I have an eye-searingly bright shirt, too? Come on, find a spare for an old friend?

[They met once.]

My Expeditioner's uniform is going to be the death of me if you don't.

[It's way, way too hot.]

[unsunder]

[ The trouble, he supposes, with forging alliances is that he will need to continue to be at least somewhat friendly with these people. Friendly for him, anyway.

Which is to say he rolls his eyes almost instantly. ]

I’ve had sneezes that have lasted longer than our acquaintance.

[ Don’t give him this “old friend” shite. ]

There are plenty enough clothes to be found in the other cabins, assuming they’ve not been picked over by this point.

[reverso]

As friendly as ever, I see.

[He had been joking, but somehow he's not surprised to find Emet-Selch being somewhat of a sourpuss again. Still, can he blame the man? Their circumstances, frankly, still suck — even if they've been granted a respite from the heat, it's still miserable in its own way.]

I've been looking, believe me, but I haven't found anything yet. So if you have something to spare, I'd really appreciate it, mon ami. I don't care if it's ugly as sin, just as long as it's cooler than what I have.

[unsunder]

[ He makes a little face at Verso as if to say “When have I ever been friendly?” and drapes the shirt, along with a pair of pants he’s also been able to dig up, over his arm. ]

I’ve not yet checked the closet, if you are so inclined to rummage.

[ There might be another bag in there.

Oh. Emet-Selch does pluck a pair of sunglasses from the nightstand. His now. ]

[reverso]

[Verso keeps his usual smile plastered on his face; this seems to be the best way to deal with Emet-Selch without getting too under his skin. Casual as usual, barely affected.

Nice shades, tho.]

Thank you. I believe I'll be doing just that.

[Don't mind him as he crosses over to the closet and steps in, momentarily disappearing. There's the sound of shuffling, and assuming Emet-Selch does not immediately abandon him, Verso's voice calls out from within-]

How do you feel about swimming?

[unsunder]

[ Emet-Selch only goes as far as the washroom to change, but still answers through the closed door, ]

Pass, thank you. Why?

icebreaker

[healbuff]

Ack!

[River gets some of the flying ice in his hair (-1 HP). Blinking he shrugs and then shakes it off like a dog. He notices he got some on the man with cool shades and shirt and he sheepishly waves.]

Sorry 'bout that. Man, I bet that robot sure hasn't gotten an OS update in decades.

[That would make sense to certain people, but that probably sounds like rubbish to anyone else.]

[unsunder]

[ He may not strictly know the vernacular, but he is leagues more tech-savvy than your average ye old, so he can put it together with context clues. ]

That, and I imagine being the only functional one for so long has made it rather faulty.

[ That might be kind of sad coming from anyone else, but from Emet-Selch it’s just sort of dry. ]

[healbuff]

Poor fella. Forever stuck on the forever shift behind the counter.

[He raises his glass of mostly ice, too much blue raspberry syrup, and whiskey. A beautifully awful blend.]

I asked for a Blue Hawaiian and well. It's blue. What'd you get?

[unsunder]

Oh, I was not about to trust that thing to do aught for me.

[ He swirls the contents of his own glass a little, it’s a lovely shade of pink with a slice of pineapple floating around in it. ]

There is a book back there with instructions. Easy enough to follow with substantially less mess.

[healbuff]

Dude! [He stands up and looks over the counter as if the book is right there.]

I should have made one myself.

[But then River looks at the terrible drink in his hand. Then back behind the counter. Back to his terrible drink. And then at Emet.]

Well, this shouldn't kill me if I chug it in one go.

[unsunder]

[ Emet-Selch arches an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the concoction in River’s hand then back to the man himself. ]

Going to put that theory to the test, are you?