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
Eddie Munson | Stranger Things | ota
[ Eddie doesn’t get blocked in. Eddie is the one who blocks other people in. He’s squeezed his van perpendicular in the non-existent pathway between two other vehicles, the tightest fit possible without scraping the bumpers. It’s a miraculous parking job, really, and it would be impressive if the owner of one of those two cars didn’t come back early and angry, shouting at Eddie for his false parking spot. ]
What do you mean it’s not a parking spot? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but uh—
[ He makes a wide, sweeping gesture to the lot: it’s a free for all, vehicles jam packed like sardines, and he’s not the only one who’s made a questionable parking choice. ]
There aren’t exactly any clear guidelines here. But, hey, maybe you just didn’t notice—Jesus Christ.
[ His fellow motorist cuts him off by pulling a very large knife from the lining of his jacket and making a comment about a free haircut. That gets Eddie scrambling, climbing up onto the top of his van, motorist in persuit. ]
Hey! Can someone get Jason Voorhees down here to back off? Anyone?
🎸 Bartender
[ Eddie isn’t a swimmer, nor is he a sit-by-the-pool kind o guy. What he is, however, is a natural born bar-goer, and this is his favorite type of bar: the kind where no one is hassling him for an ID, and there’s a fascinating android bartender. Eddie is kind enough to him, speaking to him as if he’s a real person, but he doesn’t seem particularly happy with any of his icebreakers.
”If you were a vegetable, what vegetable would you be?”
Eddie’s eyebrows knit together and his nose scrunches, a clear indicator that he’s absolutely baffled by this question in particular. ]
Dude, how many vegetables could there possibly be?
[ “Dozens. Perhaps you should ask your fellow bar patrons what they think.” ]
Alright. Well?
[ He wheels around to face one of the new friends the bartender has gathered to join him. ]
Don’t hold back, man. What vegetable would I be?
[ He holds his arms out and the answer is probably crystal clear: a string bean… ]
🎸 Propane (and Propane Accessories)
[ In typical teenage boy fashion (though he is just beyond his teenage years now), Edide isn’t doing any grilling. He hasn’t brought any food along, he isn’t offering to man a grill, and he has nothing to share. But what he does do is approach someone else’s grill unannounced and carefully pushes right past them. ]
Excuuuse me--
[ He pops a cigarette into his mouth and crouches to leans in to the open flame, quite a bit like this. With a head of hair like that, it’s a dangerous position to be in, but he pops back up unscathed, takes a step back, and dips right back into a low, dramatic bow. ]
My deepest thanks you for your patronage.
[ He pauses, eying the food on the grill and listening to the grumbling of his own stomach. ]
Actually, uh—room for one more?
🎸 Wildcard
[ Do your worst, or catch me at
bartender
Broccoli. Something must account for that wild mess of hair you have.
[ Normal stalk, top heavy flowers. Skinny body, big ridiculous hair. Yep. Eddie's broccoli. ]
no subject
Yeah, alright.
[ He taps the bar and turns back to the android behind it. ]
Hey, final answer? Broccoli.
[”Excellent!”, the bartender replies, about as excited as an even-toned robot can be. ”Then perhaps you would like to assign a vegetable to your companion.”
He really wouldn’t. He turns to Strange with a doubtful expression, and focuses like this is the hardest question he’s ever been asked. He eats as few vegetables as he can get away with, and he knows nothing about this man, so finally, he simply plucks one out of the air: ]
Uhh...Celery. You cool with that?
no subject
So as Eddie assigns him celery, Strange shrugs in response, ]
Honestly, vegetables are something I do not have strong opinions on. Celery it is.
[ The bartender-robot nods, pleased with the answer. And before it can ask them another ice breaker, Strange barrels on with, ]
You know, I think both of us would like a cocktail. There was some odd blue thing I saw someone else drinking. Perhaps two of those?
[ Distract the robot before they both get roped into icebreakers that might be a smidge more embarrassing—at least, Strange thinks this is a fine idea. ]
no subject
Mr. Thomas Lustras opens his mouth to ask yet another icebreaker, just barely getting out something about nicknames before Strange cuts him off with a drink request. ]
Yeah, I mean, I’ll drink a weird blue thing. Can’t be worse than some of the watered down shit I’ve had before.
[ The bartender’s programming to ask inane and ridiculous icebreakers is overridden immediately by the request and with a quip of “of course!”, he happily goes about his actual job.
Or tries to, at least. The moment the android so much as touches a glass, all chaos erupts. He chats happily as he grabs the wrong alcohol, dumps a full spoonful of salt into it, and breaks the glass by mixing too vigorously. Eddie revels in all of it. He snorts and watches as ice literally goes flying, and the bartender slips backwards on a piece in a full on Three Stooges move.
As the bartender picks himself up off the floor and begins his second attempt, Eddie turns to his companion. ]
Okay, so, uh…how about you let me get this one? I did some time as a bartender back home. I can probably figure it out.
[ He was a barback and given that he wasn’t legal at the time, he was only allowed to serve what was canned and bottled and sometimes what was on tap when the owner wan’t looking. But Strange doesn’t need to know the finer details. ]
Or at least end up with something that doesn't have broken glass in it.
no subject
Instead, he quickly interjects, ]
I believe there is someone at the other end of the bar anyway. You should serve them, let this young man here take over for the two of us. It certainly won't be any problem!
[ There is absolutely nobody at the other end of the bar, but Strange is delivering that suggestion with absolute certainty in his voice. ]
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jason voorhees.
It's also how he ends up at the scene when he drives between two bumpers, crushing a neatly trimmed bush as he does only to stop short from running over two bodies in the chaos. His eyes go between the shaggy-haired kid and the looming giant of a man stalking forward, radiating murder out of his pores. He can see the issue: the truck locked between the van and another car, but the real problem's also whoever decided to park sideways to begin with six hours ago. Maybe if it wasn't a kid, if it really was just two assholes about to take a swipe at each other, Logan would've ridden around and not looked back. Instead, he's already dismounting, brushing past the small crowd gathering for the show.
Goddamn it.
The knife flashes. Logan grabs the man's wrist, yanking him back down before he can scramble up the van, too. ] He'll move his car for a minute so you can get out. [ His attention lands squarely on the boy up on the roof. ] Right?
[ There's only one right answer here, by the way. Also an answer that needs to come quick 'cause he can tell when a man's itching for a fight. As much as Logan's never backed down from one, he didn't come here to waste his time starting shit with a stranger. ]
no subject
As he scrambles onto the roof, his pursuer grabs for his ankle and Eddie only manages to jump back just in time to avoid being pulled right down. He hears the thud of a body against steel as someone pulls the man down, away from the van. Eddie inches hesitantly to the edge of the roof again to peer down at the scene, eyes wide and fearful.
He wasn’t planning on moving if he could avoid it, but it’s clear that this isn’t really a question. It’s a demand. The man is struggling in Logan’s grip, ready to lunge for Eddie the next chance he gets. ]
Uh—yeah? Right. Of course.
[ He makes a show of fishing his keys out of his pocket, jingling them to be sure the angry man can see exactly what he’s doing. He inches toward the front end of the car, the furthest from the angry motorist that he can get, slips off the hood, and ducks into the van. The engine roars to life and the car creeps forward, crushing yet another neatly trimmed bush beneath its weight, but affording Mr. Voorhees just enough room to exit the premises.
Eddie cracks the door and calls out: ]
Your chariot awaits.
[ The door slams immediately after and the doors lock, as if he fully expects the man to come after him anyway, but he doesn’t. Instead, he angrily pulls away from Logan’s grip, swearing and grumbling and snapping at the gawking bystanders, but he heads directly to his truck. When he tears out of the lot, unconcerned for the bystanders that leap out of his way, he takes it upon himself to sideswipe Eddie’s bumper in a move that can only be purposeful.
When the roar of his engine disappears, only then does Eddie emerge. It’s clear that he’s been holding back some anxiety, as he takes a moment to crouch, hands on his knees, and catch the breath he didn’t even realize he’d lost. ]
Jesus Christ…
no subject
Then Road Rage seems to think twice about taking a swing when he realizes he can't escape of Logan's grasp. Logan lets go only when the kid's safely inside the van, door shut tight. The fact that there's space being made gets everyone to cool off.
Mostly.
The truck bump the van as it tears out of the lot, nearly mows down some hapless woman with her mangy dog. Logan scoffs. Same kinda people everywhere, huh? At least nobody's been stabbed. He'll take it.
He wanders over. There's dirt and bits of shrub on the concrete. He doesn't check out the damage to the van, yet. Figures there's something more important than that first—though he'll give him a hand with the bumper if he needs. ]
You okay, kid?
no subject
[ Eddie heaves a deep breath and forces himself back upright, pushing all that wild hair out of his eyes. He watches almost in a daze as Road Rage’s truck disappears, literally in a cloud of dust, and only then does he blink, come back to earth, and seem to full comprehend Logan’s words. ]
Oh. Yeah, yeah, I’m cool. Thanks, uh…
[ He peeks over his shoulder at his shoddy parking job, shrubs flattened beneath the front wheels of the van while the stiff branches leaving tiny scrapes in the paint. He knows the vehicle is too solid to be damaged by shrubbery though, but he snorts when he spots the dented bumper. ]
Probably a good thing I didn’t try to convince him he blocked me in, huh?
no subject
Next time, pick your battles.
[ Maybe not the ones that involve somebody twice your size. But he's not Summers, so that's about all the lecture coming from him.
He offers the boy a hand up. ]
Propane
The guy crouches low, too close to the open flame, cigarette clenched between his teeth like he's daring the fire to try something. Jesse half-expects the hair to go up in a crackling whoosh. Logic says it should, but somehow he pops back up untouched, grinning like he's in on some joke the rest of the world missed. Then comes the bow, all flourish and irony. Jesse just stands there for a moment, watching as his voice dips into faux elegance like they're not both half-stranded in a dream that might eat them.
He doesn't laugh. Not out loud. But the corners of his mouth hitch like something just caught him off guard in a way that isn't unwelcome. Yeah, okay, he's smiling or trying not to, and failing. And then the guy asks if there's room for one more like Jesse owns anything here. Like this busted grill and the food on it belong to him in any meaningful way. It doesn't, but he did somehow get saddled with tending the grill when someone handed him the tongs and fucked off to get a drink and then...never came back. So, he guesses he's free to eat his fill once it's done. He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, eyes still on Eddie like he's trying to figure out where he knows him from. Forgive him, Eddie. It's been a hell of a whirlwind since he got here, and his memory wasn't exactly stellar upon arrival. ]
I think we met before...supermarket, maybe? Anyway, sure, man. Long as you don't catch fire. I already had one dude meltin' himself medium-rare back there. [ Yeah, he'd run into Wade already. He squints and considers asking Eddie if he brought hot dogs or just vibes, but holds his tongue. There is something he might be able to offer. ] Yo...you got an extra one of those?
[ He asks, tipping his chin in Eddie's direction. More specifically, at the cigarette he just lit. ]
no subject
In truth, he’s not typically much of a daredevil, but using the flame of the grill to light his cigarette is something of a party trick, and he knows that if he slows down to think too hard about this place or how he could possibly get home, anxiety is bound to swallow him whole. But so long as he stays surrounded by people and noise, he can keep those nerves at bay for a time. This is the perfect environment for that.]
Oh, yeah! Hey! You’re the guy who murdered my free sample.
[ Luckily, Eddie’s memory is a touch better. There isn’t an ounce of malice in his tone and he grins easily, a sure sign that there’s no hard feelings. Eddie walked away from that interaction with a pretty tasty candy bar, after all. ]
You know, man, you’re in luck, because, uh…
[ He reaches into his jacket pocket, produces a battered pack of Camels, and lo and behold, tips a second cigarette from the package. He holds it in his palm and like a knight offering his sword, offers it to Jesse. ]
Totally untouched by both weather and the likes of men. Call it a trade?
bar
He is also perhaps a little drawn in because Eddie has an admirable head of hair, but that's nobody's business.
Briefly, Nandor seems taken aback and unsure if he's being addressed. He visibly panics as he considers the question and realises he can't think of a single vegetable.]
Ahh... perhaps a cubert. [Is that anything?]
Or an egg.
no subject
He eyes the other man for a moment, taking note of his own admirable head of hair, then snorts in amusement and whips right back around to the bartender, grinning broadly. ]
Alright. Dealer’s choice, so, uh…we’re going with a cubert.
[ The android barkeeper pauses, as if he needs to calculate and take this response into account. Finally, he responds, “that is not a vegetable”. ]
Hey, hey. You don’t know that. You don’t know where he comes from. Maybe every family eats a side of cubert with all their meals where he's from.
[ He leans back to address Nador: ]
Right?
no subject
YES.
[He sidles closer and, though he doesn't need to be invited to sit-- well. He kind of does. Because he's just looking from the empty seat to Eddie, then nodding emphatically.
When Eddie is distracted, Nandor casts a hateful look at Thomas Lustras the Bartender his Mortal Enemy. When Eddie's eyes are back on him, he smiles pleasantly.]
Yes. I am a purveyor of all kinds of vegetables, so I know what I am talking about. [He drums his fingers on the counter.]
What vegetable will you assign me?
no subject
To be totally straight with you? Vegetables aren’t really my thing at all, but uh…since you’re the expert, you’re free to critique me. I'm gonna say...
[ He tilts his head and takes Nandor’s entire Look and demeanor in, and he seems to be thinking very seriously about this vegetable topic. He knows about five vegetables (six now that the Cubert is a thing) and none of them scream tall, long haired man with an accent and an impressive set of fangs, but he finally settles on one: ]
Corn.
[ It’s a firm decision, and he nods. ]
The ears, you know? It’s uncanny.
no subject
Ears? Yes. I have two. [He reaches up and touches one, just to be sure.]
Corn. [He repeats, thoughtful.]
I smell nice. With butter. At the movies.
parking foes
Case in point: it's the yelling that catches her attention, first. The knife, second. The rest sort of explains itself. Lucina darts behind the angry driver, reaching up to grab his wrist before the blade can really start swinging places. She's got a firm enough grip to hold him in place. It's enough to bring things to a stand still, for now. ]
Surely this would be better resolved with words. [ Unfortunately, she's missing the front half of the context where Eddie's the one who's parked all of them in. She just saw a guy scrambling up on his van yelling for help and jumped in.
So she looks up to Eddie. ] What happened here?
no subject
In the end, the motorist doesn’t get that far. Before he can even pull himself up onto the roof of the van, he’s pulled back down and held in place by Lucina. He turns his anger to her instead, shouting about the parking spaces while Eddie inches toward the rear end of the van once more and peers down at the two of them. ]
I guess I, uh…blocked him in?
[ He does his best to feign innocence, but he knew exactly what he was doing, and guilt seeps through into his expression. All the same, it shouldn’t have been as big a deal as it was. ]
Hey, I’d have moved if he’d asked nicely. He kind of didn't ask at all.
no subject
I see. Will you give the gentleman [ a tilt of her head towards Eddie, ] the opportunity to do so? [ He struggles a little in her grip, before giving a rushed: "Fine, fine! Just— ah, fuck — let go, will you?"
She narrows her eyes, but lets him go. The man immediately looks around — and bares his teeth at the fact what he's looking for is under her foot, rubbing his wrist with the other hand. He does step aside though. She reaches down to pick up the knife and hold it in her hand. ]
You're free to move your car, if you could. [ A beat. Eddie did say ask nicely, so, ] Please.
no subject
At least someone can ask nicely.
[ He bows to Lucina, the very image of a jester bowing to royalty, and he climbs down from the roof. It’s an awkward move, all gangly noodle limbs, but he lands on his feet. He sticks close to the car as he inches his way around to the driver’s seat in an attempt to stay as far away from the man as possible, though he does stick his tongue out at him just before he ducks into the van. The engine roars to life, and the large vehicle lurches forward…right into some bushes. It does provide Knife Man with enough room to exit the premises, though, and Eddie pokes his head out the window with a grin. ]
Good enough?
(no subject)
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propane
...You realize you have a whole head of hair, right?
[As in, he's lucky that he did not lose all that hair to the hungry fire of The Grill. Henry's ignoring his other question for now, but holding back any further commentary because... Eddie was helpful to him once. He supposes.]
no subject
[ Eddie’s eyes go as wide as saucers and he puts on a show of patting his hair with his cigarette-free hand as if he’s just discovered it’s there and hasn’t spent the last several years growing it out. He is merely a jester and the world is his court… ]
Yeah, I’m, uh…I’m pretty aware. Thanks.
[ He snorts and backs way from the grill, polite enough to avoid getting ashes on the food. He takes a drag of his cigarette and tilts his head, taking a moment to place Henry. He’s not easy to forget, and it only takes a moment for him to recall him as the man with the Oldsmobile who had never driven in his life. One of two of Eddie’s impromptu drivers ed students. ]
Hey, you got here in one piece, huh? How’s the car?
no subject
If your hair goes up in flames one day, I'm going to be the first to say "I told you so."
[As if on cue, the flames from the grill flare, fire burning hot and licking at the patties currently cooking and sizzling. Henry arches his brow; see, that could've been you!
Anyway, speaking of the grill, it seems like some poor fool has left Henry in charge of it for an undetermined period of time. As if dressed for the occasion (when the reality is that he stole a new set of clothes from one of the nearby cabanas), he's currently sporting this fit. Though let's be real, he doesn't look nearly as cool as the photo. Enjoy his pasty white legs.]
Ha. I got into a fender bender not too long after we parted. [Go figure. It was mostly cosmetic damage, anyway, and Henry doesn't seem to care. He still hates that car.] But I've gotten better at getting from point A to point B, and isn't that the important thing?