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.
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diademlogs2025-06-08 10:11 am
joel miller ▣ hbo tlou
also feel free to reach out to me on this account or at
【 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 】enroute to the resort
If you happen to talk your way into his truck, he's got a strict no-small-talk policy, don't make him tap the sign. He'll answer valid questions if you have them, and to anyone speaking to him about anything in length, the best response you'll get is the gruff sounds of an old man barely listening.
Lord help you if you roll down the manual windows on his truck for some fresh air. He'll hit you with a gruff: No, and a stiff pump on the brakes. He's already got the details on the flyer memorized, but in case none of the rest applies through the silence of the trip he begs the question. ]
What are the chances this is a trap?
【 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 】
The android is too chipper for him and though Joel makes conversation lightly in the typical southern way when the questions game starts with a banger:
Tell me the story behind one of your scars
Joel levels the automaton with a look that could kill, and that look lasts an eternity between the two of them and whatever poor unfortunate soul happens to be at the bar alongside him. ]
Give me the fuckin' bottle.
b:
[ It's weird that the damn thing shares a name with his brother but it's something he stows away for later. Now with a bottle next to him and the drinks flowing, Joel despite taking the edge off still wears the same typical blanket of tension. He's got a book open in front of him, just scrap paper with notes, all cyphered for his use in a self-practiced shorthand. Trying to make sense of this place hasn't done him a damn bit of good but old habits die hard and not even the alcohol can quell the oncoming headache. ]
B
[ Jack drank some of it, made a face, and didn't drink it again, but he also didn't throw it away. It seemed impolite to do that so he kept it in his hand while he spoke pleasantly with Thomas for a time. He didn't want the android to know that he messed up so much, he seemed to genuinely want to help out other people. Being a bartender is probably hard.
Jack thinks that when he goes behind the bar and he looks at the various bottles. His family usually only has beer. He doesn't know anything about the harder liquors. He picks up bottles and curiously reads the labels, although some of them are in other languages. He sets one down and glances up, curiously watching Joel. ]
What are you writing?
no subject
[ A whiskey neat was far from a difficult drink to pour, but it came out sour and watered down, and after that, Joel saw to his own drinks and needs. It just saved him time to warn the others, but despite this guy's age, he had a greenness to him that smacked of youth, younger than he seemed at face value. ]
Keeping track of where I've been and what I've seen.
[ The answer is gruff, deadpan, and veiled in the 'mind your business,' southern tone of lackidasical politeness. It's a little more than that, but he doesn't owe him an explanation to the meat of the matter simply because he asked. ]
no subject
[ No wonder Thomas seems so interested in talking to other people. Maybe he's been in this place a long time, before it was transplanted here, and he's been alone. Jack hasn't made sense of what this place was, only that it seems like the robots all 'died.' He's theorizing an EMP. He knows what it's like to be the only one of his kind. But it seems like an overall tragedy and it's probably why he so readily answered all of Thomas's questions. Jack understands being the only one.
He does have a young feel to him, green and new and innocent. Jack's not innocent in terms of the short and tragic life he himself has led, but he has this open honesty and curiosity about him that gives that naive energy. So he doesn't understand the 'mind your business' tone, it goes right over his head. ]
You mean in the whole world so far? I think I've been to most of the city by now. It's bigger than any place I've ever been.
no subject
[ Robot or otherwise, not that Joel considers the barkeep to be sentient or alive in the technical sense. Operability was debatable, but as long as he was talking, he was off the chopping block for loot and salvage.
Green was right, and Joel regards him with a look of resigned interest barely there on the fringes of concern or curiosity. ]
What're you from a small town?
no subject
[ Jack himself is damaged goods to an insane level. Only three years old and already drowned in mental anguish and violence. He's never had something nice and simple like sitting by a pool or having a drink casually, without fear hanging over him. He isn't afraid right now, not even of himself. It's calming.
He is much more interested in the man. That reminds him of something his father Dean would have said. Although maybe all three of them would, they all are damaged in one way or the other. Castiel assures him it's normal, at least for their family. He bobs his head. ]
Yes, Lebanon, Kansas. There are less than three hundred people who live there.
[ It's the epitome of small town USA. Jack has only occasionally ventured out to meet the people there, and it hasn't gone terribly well, so he's stayed isolated in the bunker more frequently. ]
So something that might have a million people, that's huge. I've never been able to imagine it before.
no subject
After some fiddling with the mechanics, Joel shuts the lid and flips the propane back on for lighting and the pilot comes back to life and the meat starts to sizzle. ]
There. Now shut up about it.
[ Joel grabs a kabob and a patty, no bun, to go and bare-fisted and sits back on a nearby lawn chair with his haul. ]
THE LOBBY
a:
He opens drawers when left unattended, and peers into rooms labeled for employees despite manners and procedure usually suggesting otherwise. If he finds something he likes, be it silverware, fabric, or something else he slips it into a pocket or his backpack based on its size. The whole smuggler thing is as natural as breathing now, and coming from one place of limited resources to another he has no qualm with pinching just to get by, even if it spits in the face of good old-fashioned hospitality. ]
b:
He's got her bent over the desk in front of him and it looks a lot more inappropriate than it is because with the back hatch open he's got his hand in the circuitry and a pile of scraps and salvage to his right for the reaping. ]
The Lobby (b)
Yo-!
[ Jesse throws a hand up and immediately averts his eyes like he just walked in on his parents mid-makeout. ]
Maybe- shit, man- think of, like, getting a room or somethin'?
[ He angles his body like he's trying not to look, but he also kind of is looking, in that 'what the actual fuck am I seeing right now' way. There's a moment where he's genuinely flustered, squinting at the wig, the lipstick, the whole pose. He wants to get out, but it's like his feet are two blocks of concrete. ]
You know they got, uh, pool cabanas for that kinda thing, right?
no subject
She ain't my type.
[ He liked his women, living, breathing, flesh and muscle. This robot was only worth what he could strip from her parts, but he realizes with some dismay how it looks and pulls the screwdriver out of her back and sets it on the counter in front of him with purpose. ]
no subject
Oh. [ Relief washes over him all at once. ] I thought you were, uh--
[ He makes a vague little motion with his fingers--circular, somehow obscene in its aimlessness--then gives up, flapping his hand like he's waving away smoke. ]
Yeah, never mind. My bad.
[ He clears his throat, still half-embarrassed, but the heat behind his ears starts to cool as curiosity pries its way in. Jesse takes a few steps closer, the soles of his sneakers sticky on the heat-warped tile, glancing around like the place might suddenly become normal if he just looks at it long enough. It doesn't happen. Of course it doesn't. Joel's tools glint in the low light, a mess of salvaged tech and cracked fiberglass spread out like an autopsy, and Jesse catches himself staring again, curious and maybe a little fascinated. ]
So what, you like...harvesting 'em? Rippin' parts for trade? Not a bad idea, yo. Kinda creepy, though, considering they're like...I mean, you saw the bartender, right? Maybe these guys are just temporarily out of order or somethin'.
[ He drifts a little farther in, shoulders loosening now. Jesse squints toward a cluttered display shelf half-hidden behind a faded poster of some long-dead pop star selling chewing gum. There's a cracked snow globe, a dusty rack of novelty sunglasses, and some kind of vibrating neck pillow that starts humming ominously when he brushes past it. But it's something else entirely tucked behind a row of toppled shot glasses that catches his eye: a battered handheld gaming device. The screen is spiderwebbed, casing scuffed to hell, but the buttons still click when he thumbs them. A spark of something almost childlike flickers across his face. Jesse calls over his shoulder, holding it up. ]
I wonder if this thing's fixable. Used to have one kinda like it when I was a kid. Thing could play like 20 different pre-loaded bootleg games before it fried.
[ He brings it closer to the light, tapping the screen gently like it might twitch back to life. ]
no subject
Even in the hellscape back home, not that this place was all that different. An irreverent huff of amusement escapes him. Joel sets his tools down beside the robotic corpse on the counter and takes the scraps and shoves them into his knapsack without looking, eyes still trained on Jesse. ]
A little of both, and whether or not they'll be up and running isn't my issue; it's theirs. Circuity can be replaced, but there're more of us with living tissue, and our framework isn't on the cloud.
[ Typical of the ends justify the means lifestyle of a smuggler. Joel's vaguely impressed when Jesse pulls out an old game system from the wreckage. He's got the makings of a smuggler himself, if it weren't for the visible issue with paying attention. He's no doctor, but he's willing to bet dollars to donuts this kid has ADHD. ]
I can't make any promises, but I can take a look at it later on. If I manage to fix it, you'll just owe me a favor.
a.
He needs sunglasses. ]
There's gotta be a stand for merch somewh...
[ Trailing off, because he's just rounded the corner into a room that's already occupied by a guy who knows what he's doing. ]
Hi.
[ As he casually greets him, his eyes are sliding over the man, the room, the items remaining in it... a lot of useful stuff. For normal people. But horribly: lacking in sunglasses. ]
no subject
[ Joel's not clear on the need for acknowledgment, but the guy enters with an indifference that has to be respected given their current circumstances. Joel's going through the racks, and is currently on what's left of some magazine stand, leafing through what's available for some clue as to where this place came from, but coming up goose egg. ]