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The Diadem ([personal profile] thediadem) wrote in [community profile] diademlogs2025-06-08 10:11 am
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MINGLE ∞ LOG — June 2025

Mingle ∞ Log
No Lifeguard on Duty
©
Jump ⇅ :: IntroPromptsNPC 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 ∞
TravelMapSetting
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.
Questions? Ask here
brandingproblem: (telling me that I'm insane)

clint barton | mcu

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-08 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)
electric sheep
[He parks a bit out from the actual parking lot. Because he can see a situation as he approaches, and the situation is: people fucking suck at parking, same as it ever was. And if there's gonna be a rush on whatever goods might be here, he doesn't want to get trapped in the chaos. Or get his doors dinged.

The doors getting dinged isn't a big deal for these postapocalyptic road warrior cars, but like. It's the principle of the thing.

It does mean a longer walk, but he's fit as a fiddle, and he'll do it in the heat if it kills him. Hopefully it doesn't kill him. At least it's night here, for some reason. In theory, might make it cooler. Still, he's definitely going around sleeveless, one whole arm covered shoulder to wrist in tattoos.

He's not here for the pool. The fact that anyone's in the pool at all boggles his mind. This isn't a place to linger; it's a place to pick up whatever might be worth literally anything and make it back to the city alive.

The robots make him pause. They're so...oddly posed. And very dead? Very offline? Very not coming back online as far as he can tell. It's an android graveyard, it seems like, and they were all trying very hard to look normal and have a good time before their own personal apocalypse happened.

Anyone gonna claim these? No? Don't mind if he do, then. Catch him dragging or carrying one of these bad boys (or girls?) out to the car, setting one up in the passenger seat. He even poses the arm like it's resting on the door. This one has sunglasses and a swanky kind of Hawaiian-esque shirt. Looks like he's chilling. All of this is fine. Everything's fine, folks, don't worry about it.]


android dreams
[Except worry about it, because it only takes a couple of hours for the thing to just...dissolve. Dissipate. Discombobulate. Become as goo in the back of his car, with only a few odd screws and bolts left in the mess to speak of. And it is a mess. He's going to have to clean that out.

Was he worried about dented doors before? Clearly not with the way he lets out a frustrated short yell and kicks said door.

He pulls the tarp off the roof and spreads it over the seat. It won't look any better, but if anything else melts, it might not get on everywhere and everything.

So he's not in a great mood when he comes back in. If he takes anything else, is it all going to be for naught? What about the boozes? He ignores the 'bartender' completely and reaches for some whiskey. Makes a point to take a sip. Tastes real enough. And then he grabs a vodka, because he doesn't know what the deal is. Was it the mechanical nature? Was it the size? Is there a god damn weight limit here?

Maybe stop and try to chat with him before he attempts to steal the whole bar. Or share in a bottle he's pulled off the shelf. Encourage him to be nice to the android, maybe!]


chill & grill
[He's been eyeballing the grill, too. Or at the very least, the propane. But it's always in use. Everyone's out here trying to have a good time and using a grill to cook up whatever in god's name they've scrounged up.

It's going to be a hell of an attempt if he can manage it. So. Instead. He'll look around elsewhere. Grab a couple shirts, a nice pair of pants, a tube of lipstick, squirrel those away. It's not much, but maybe it's going to be something. Which is more than nothing.

If he's offered something, he will give an awkward smile and take it gladly. What happens from there is out of sight, out of mind.]


wildcard
[go nuts]
Edited 2025-06-09 13:14 (UTC)
wwrench: <lj user=roximonoxide> (pic#13397459)

electric sheep

[personal profile] wwrench 2025-06-09 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
( At this point, Wrench can't remember the first crime he ever committed. He thinks he ought to, though. Surely it was something of a linchpin moment in his life — a crossroads leading down two disparate paths. If he'd stayed on the straight and narrow he might've avoided what came next. But he'd stepped to the other side and let himself become irrevocably corrupted. If he could go back to that moment and steer the young boy he'd once been down the correct path instead, maybe the course of his whole life would've been different. Problem is, he can't even think himself back there.

Whatever it was, he's committed far worse by now. And while Wrench can clearly remember the first life he ever took, he's long since lost track of all of them. The tally marks are too numerous now; the hatches against his soul overlap and overlap and he knows it's all mangled underneath. But the one thing Wrench doesn't do? The one thing that's been inculcated from him?

Wrench doesn't steal.

Looks like he's the only one holding that line. The big man scoffs and crosses his arms, watching the stranger drag the cumbersome android to the passenger's seat of a modified classic car. He watches the man arrange it just so, posing its stiff limbs and adjusting the sunglasses on its mechanical face. Quite despite himself, Wrench scoffs aloud at the scene. The stranger turns, and the two are face to face for a moment of silent contemplation. Then Wrench's expression turns bitterly amused, and he juts his chin toward the man. )


Clothes? I understand. Food? Of course. But you're the first person I've seen trying to steal themselves a sex doll.

( By now Wrench knows that the people around here seem to inexplicably understand one another. He knows that even though he's shaped the affronting commentary in ASL, the man might still comprehend. He just doesn't care. )
brandingproblem: (with the strength you bring us)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-10 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[Stealing is perhaps one of the most minor offenses Clint can think of in his repertoire. It's not one of his go-tos, but this place encourages scrounging around in the places that haphazardly appear and disappear again to get by. So. Might as well. It's better than killing, right?

Maybe. Depends on the reasons.

There's a scoff behind him, and Clint tries not to roll his eyes before he turns and plasters a fake smile on his face.

Guy's got hands that move in a way that's enviable, and Clint understands him anyway, which has been something pretty awesome to get used to even if it's confounding. The sex doll comment gets a genuine bark of laughter out of him.]


Yeah, makes me a little worried, cuz there's no way I'm smarter than everyone here. Starting to think they know something I don't. [Or maybe other people found the idea of hefting a whole--thing that housed an actual consciousness(?) around to sell for parts a little weird and gruesome. This used-to-be-someone isn't exactly Vision, and whoever they were isn't going to just show up out of the blue and demand the body back. Probably.]
wwrench: (pic#13591378)

[personal profile] wwrench 2025-06-10 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
( Given enough time, the novelty of being understood will probably wear itself thin. For right now, though, it isn't even close. The man's face blooms in amusement and Wrench's expression is quick to follow. The laughter is such a genuine shock to him it sends a surge of oxytocin coursing through his bloodstream. Despite whatever first impression he's been intent on cultivating, Wrench grins with enough earnest amusement to reveal the gentle gap between his two front teeth.

He catches himself almost immediately, though. The momentary delight fades from his expression as though it was never there in the first place, and Wrench arches an eyebrow at the other man. )


You understand me? That's great. But I'm still deaf.

( He takes a step closer, narrowing the gap of space between them in a posture that might seem almost threatening, but Wrench directs himself toward the passenger side window. He leans in close enough to scrutinize the android's eyes up close before reaching out and pinching two fingers around its cold metal nose. He can't will the alloy to move, but he holds his hand there as though he means to suffocate it. After several seconds, Wrench steps back from the car door again. )

Hope it doesn't suddenly wake up while you're spooning with it.
brandingproblem: (feeling like a hurricane in my brain)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-13 11:52 am (UTC)(link)
[Clint rolls his eyes up to the heavens. Yeah, okay. Of course he gets accosted by someone he can't even joke at directly. Look, it's not exactly the guy's fault, and he can't be mad about it when the guy's so damn happy to be understood. It's not a language Clint ever picked up. He knows more military hand signals than ASL. Maybe SHIELD should've made that mandatory.

Whatever, he can whip out his phone, no problem. And watch the guy do...something very curious. It's a robot, deactivated, so it isn't like it breathes. Maybe once upon a time it could simulate breathing. But the fact that he goes through the motions, or some of the motions anyway, of looking like he's trying to snuff out a sleeping person's breath, is...

Curious.

He taps the guy on the arm, flashes his phone at his face with a string of text tapped out.]


You couldn't have led with that?
If it wakes up it can be a new flux drift like the rest of us. Free new roomie.
[He does not like any of that idea, but he's also reasonably sure it isn't going to spring back to life anytime soon.]
diplomatiste: (05)

android dreams ;

[personal profile] diplomatiste 2025-06-15 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's the commotion of the droid's protests that catches Alphinaud's attention: the repeated request that Clint please request a drink that the droid might make for him rather than pilfer wholesale the bottles from the racks, as there is a protocol for this, he can make a rather mean Shirley Temple, and would he not rather answer the charming question, 'What's your go-to dance move?' instead?

The droid, while actually incapable of such, appears to be drowning, his comments coming out in a flurry. He clumsily drops a glass, and ice cubes tumble onto the floor accompanied by newly broken glass.

And the teenaged boy with pointed ears and stark-white hair, a perfectly harmless glass of water before him, hides a small muffled breath of a laugh behind his hand and then clears his throat. ]


Are you quite certain you ought to be consuming so much, ser? I believe Thomas is rather concerned.
brandingproblem: (kamikaze crash like a suicide)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-17 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[The sound of breaking glass gets his attention, because the last thing a bar needs is shards of glass mixed in with the ice, for instance. It's just across the floor, which is still a hazard, but mostly just behind the bar. Like where Clint is.

He frowns lightly and sets the bottles down on the bartop.]


I think he's just concerned that nobody wants to play twenty questions with him. You see a broom anywhere?

[He doesn't need to clean up after a sloppy robot. But it feels like something he ought to do?]
diplomatiste: (14)

[personal profile] diplomatiste 2025-06-18 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I —

[ Thomas the android has now since tried to fulfill another visitor's order, ignoring the glass and ice for the moment in favour of his higher directive (that is, serving drinks), but still looking very much flustered for something comprised wholly of metal.

But at least he's left them to their own devices for now — leaves Clint from the barrage of silly questions.

And Alphinaud is very momentarily startled to be asked about a broom, like this may be an unusual request (even though it really isn't), before he scans their surroundings quickly for one. ]


Yes, I see one in the corner at the other end of the bar. [ He gets to his feet, wanting to be helpful. ] I could fetch it if you like.
brandingproblem: (telling me that I'm insane)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-19 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[Clint flaps a hand at the pointy-eared kid casually.] I got it, thanks.

[Maybe this is what Wanda was starting to refer to. Doing a lot. Implied doing too much. But this is something small. No big deal. All good.

There's a look of consternation set on Clint's face even as he starts sweeping. Is this dumb? God, this must be dumb. This place won't even be here in a couple days or weeks. At least it'll keep others safer, when they iinevitably go for their own drinks? Yeah. That's better. That'll be it.]


You want to indulge the bartender-bot? It feels almost pre-recorded, but... [But there's also a semblance of actual thought and personality and someone in there. Like someone zapped Vision and turned him wildly incompetent.] Feels weird, doesn't it.
diplomatiste: (10)

[personal profile] diplomatiste 2025-06-20 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Looking mildly dejected, Alphinaud settles back down in his seat.

Perhaps it's that he's a lot more comfortable giving direction than he is sitting about and not making himself useful, but he quickly recovers with Clint's question and the comments that follow. ]


I'm afraid we've already had quite a lengthy conversation, one that granted me more than one full glass of water, in fact. This is my third.

[ He gestures to his glass. ]

I'd much prefer to avoid a repeat of that. But I agree — I can't help but wonder if Thomas is purposely limited in his responses.
brandingproblem: (Default)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-23 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Did you want water, or is it just a happy consequence of not getting a drink made wrong or poured all over you?

[Is it a 'reward' for partaking in the nonsense that is chattering with the bartender? Hm...]

See, he seems like a tin can with just as canned answers, but...the story he tells, with the rest of what we can see around here? He's not just a robot, I think. But that implies a lot of things that don't paint a pretty picture.
diplomatiste: (433)

[personal profile] diplomatiste 2025-06-25 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, yes. I'm afraid I'm not overly fond of the taste of alcohol, from what little I've sampled.

[ ... and also because whenever he's been around alcohol, there's usually an adult to take it away, on account of his youth and all. ]

But you bring up a fair point about its quality, for all that Thomas appears to be doing his best. [ His eyes go back to studying the android, fumbling with another drink for another guest, adding one too many sprigs of mint into the glass. ] And a very interesting theory, besides.

[ Please do elaborate, ser. ]

I have my own suspicions but I'd curious to hear yours.
brandingproblem: (telling me that I'm insane)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2025-06-28 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Fair 'nough. Besides, it's the drinks that don't taste like alcohol that are the dangerous ones.

[His sweeping slows enough that he chooses to lean on the broom, eyeballing the bartender.]

All these guys used to be people. Or are people, somewhere out there, who got disconnected from these robot bodies. But Thomas here, something happened to get him caught up in all this, and now some part of his consciousness is stuck, not like a degrading bit of machinery but like...someone who got lobotomized, something like that.

As a theory.
diplomatiste: (11)

[personal profile] diplomatiste 2025-07-02 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
Is that right?

[ Alphinaud blinks, looking as innocent as his sixteen years of life experience would suggest, before he seems to catch the hint and utters an oh of comprehension. ]

Are there many of those? [ Quickly: ] Not that I'm considering sampling any at this moment, of course.

[ He wouldn't be surprised if his saying so happens to materialize any of his other friends, though.

But he has little time to worry over his shoulder when the man's theory, which is grim to be sure but not quite unlike some of his own suspicions, has his expression shifting into pensiveness over his glass of water. ]


I had considered something similar myself — that such beings like Thomas were not always built this way, or built at all. Perhaps there is some essence of the true Thomas that still remains, enough of which that contradicts a machine's working purpose. And if such a thing could exist, I can only wonder if there are more of his number.