EVENT ∞ LOG — July 125

[thediadem]

Event ∞ Log

In the Flesh

Jump ⇅ :: Visits — First Contact — Hitchhikers — Notes

∞ Prologue ∞

It's not real, it's not real.

Somewhere in the Blocks, late at night, a young woman repeats the words over and over, fumbling with her room key. She doesn't dare look over her shoulder again, begging her hand to obey. Her fingers are stiff and smooth, and it makes each movement more difficult. Eventually, the door gives way. She stumbles into the apartment, slamming it behind her and locking several bolts.

Leaning back on the door, she lets her key ring fall to the linoleum as she holds her hand up to her face. It isn't just her fingers now. Painted plastic has taken over her entire right hand, spreading up her forearm toward a ball-jointed elbow that creaks painfully. She grabs her neck with her flesh hand, sucking in a sharp breath as she tries to steady her heart.

It's not real, it's not real...

She takes another breath, then turns on the light. The bulb flickers. Hazy light flood the room with an incessant buzz.

She freezes.

A figure stands in the opposite doorway. It doesn't move, stuck in a pose with an outstretched hand—one made of flesh and bone. Her hand.

She screams.

Info & Mechanics — NPC Forum Post — Event Interaction ::: ⇅ Top

Strange Visits

Panorama

For the first week or two of July, life goes on as usual. You have a lot on your plate—jobs, loans, rent, that creep who won't stop staring at you when you're filling up your car—and the last thing you've got time for is other people's problems. Or maybe you find room to listen, anyway? Whatever the case, it's mostly a lot of stories and pointing fingers: a shopkeeper accuses his friend of stealing from him, somebody claims their boss must've skipped town to avoid paying the employees, and a woman is frantic about her missing husband. He never goes anywhere without telling her.

If you decide to look into it, none of the incidents seem connected. After all, people frequently go missing in the Diadem, friends betray each other, and businesses often go bankrupt, leaving their workers to pick up the pieces. Funny thing, though: here and there, you swear you glimpse a figure who isn't entirely flesh. Their features are just...a bit odd. Is it your imagination? When you move in for a closer look, something gets in your way and the figure disappears.

On the other hand, you think to yourself, it's not as though everybody on this planet looks standard. If a man can have horns, why can't his skin also be a bit plasticky?

Use the Event Interaction comment any time you need specifics or some direction for an element you're engaging within the event. This can be an NPC victim your character is questioning, an aspect of the diffusion zone your character is testing, or anything along those veins. While you're encouraged to make things up on your own, too, if you're ever unsure of the results or the answers you might get, approach us there!

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First Contact

The Fringes

Inevitably, you take the risk and head back into the Fringes. It has what you need, and the bizarreness in Panorama isn't making the city feel like much of a refuge, either. Besides, long trips aren't unusual for anyone in the Diadem. As you drive, you might even find yourself reluctant to return to the city. After all, there's so much across the multitude of diffusion zones that regardless of how dangerous it can be, perhaps some part of you is attracted to the thrill of the unknown.

If the promise of loot isn't enough, a note on the Forum might be. Here, you'll scroll across a brief message from who else but the ever-eager Felix Bjurstrom, joined by his daughter, Olive "Ollie" Bjurstrom. (Looks like he's got a new phone again!) If nothing else, the investigative or curious nature in you gets you going. What if this is a piece of the puzzle you need to go home?

If you want your character to scavenge items, check how that works. The Map identifies where each Quadrant is located.

Among the Shadows — Abandoned Mall

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 10-hour drive from Panorama, a standard American shopping mall rises through the cracked and broken highway. A portion of its vast parking lot melts into the road ahead and behind. There are cars in the parking lot, each one perfectly preserved: no rust, no dust, nothing.

The mall's lights are on. The moment you step inside, you'll notice that you're not alone. Inside, shadow corpses are everywhere, frozen in time. Their bodies show no signs of distress. If you try to touch them, a dark, ashy residue coats your fingers. You see a young couple linking arms, a mother bending over to pick up her child, and a man ordering his last meal at the KFC. It's as though they all just...stopped. While eerie, whatever force swept through here is long gone.

The upside is that nobody will bother you while you look around—aside from other fluxdrifts, of course. The shops and their offerings are stuck in the 90's. Big electronics are cosmic touched, rendering them worthless, but smaller electronics like cassette tapes, CDs, and Walkmans are all viable. You can also grab clothes, snacks, and (cheap) jewelry.

And, as you pass by the store windows, you see many mannequins on display. That's normal, so you don't think twice. At least, until you swear one of them keeps moving around the store. Though its pose never changes, it almost appears to...follow you? That can't be right. You must be seeing things.

Zone Effects
Touching any of the frozen shadows will cause the victim to believe that their companion(s) have transformed into monstrous creatures. Attempts to approach you will only register as an attack rather than placating gestures, while words will sound like snarls or spoken threats. An induced panic will make it more difficult to think logically and see through the hallucination. The illusory creatures can take the form of anything that might frighten or threaten you the most.

You can break free of the illusion through a variety of methods, including your own willpower, being knocked out by your friends, or seeing/hearing something that makes you realize it isn't real. The hallucination isn't overly intense, but it can cause a bit of havoc among you and your companions...and increase the likelihood a mannequin might make contact unnoticed.

Wall of Refuge — Strange Temple

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 6-hour drive from Panorama—and on the way to the abandoned mall above—stands a geometric structure made of metal and stone. Sharp angles shoot up from the ground to form a distorted hexagon. The gateway is littered with sigils: some weathered by time, others freshly carved into the rocky surface. They glow when you drive forward, beckoning you closer. Come in, whispers an unknown compulsion in your mind. You are home.

You may succumb to the whispers for any number of reasons: sleep deprivation, desperation for a place to rest overnight, or a need to hide from raiders or dangerous creatures lurking in another nearby zone. Regardless, you give in and enter the triangular entrance. The stone gate lifts to grant you passage, revealing an effigy of a multi-limbed being. A deity? A symbol of power? Though you're unsure, you continue deeper. Your footsteps echo across the cavernous halls.

Behind you, the heavy gate slowly closes with a rumbling finality. Despite the chilly entranceway, the interior of the temple is warm and inviting. Candles line the walls. Fountains flow peacefully. You can enter one of the many rooms to find a soft bed, fresh cakes, succulent meat, and fine wine available for you. Behind a silk curtain is a steaming bath lined with soothing floral herbs and oils.

Meanwhile, throughout your explorations, you might sense a figure or a shadow in the passageway. A glimpse of shiny plastic appears oddly out of place in a temple of this kind.

Zone Effects

• If you are a believer and decide to trust the gifts bestowed upon you, then you may safely indulge. The wine will warm you up, the food will fill your belly, and you can sleep through the night. When you awaken, you can safely leave the temple refreshed. Your vehicle will be outside, untouched, as if some power within was protecting your belongings.
• If you are a heretic and doubt the offerings you've been graciously given, the gifts will begin to rot and all amenities will crumble to dust. The more your cynicism betrays you, the more the temple will take until nothing remains except the oddly textured walls bearing down on you. As you examine the surface, you realize the stone is built from a manifold of dozens—no, hundreds—of twisted bodies. Their arms are raised in reverence, piled upon each other like human bricks. Their gaping mouths are frozen in a silent scream. As for you and your companions...what fate will await the nonbeliever?

The Last Stop — Foggy Town

©

In Quadrant 4, about a 3-hour drive from Panorama, east of the currently unused train tracks, a thick mist rolls through the highway. Here, the sky darkens rapidly into night and the temperature drops. If you've traveled unprepared, presuming the heat in Panorama spreads into the Fringes, you'll find that's not so. A chill spreads into your bones and creeps up the back of your neck.

Then the ground rumbles. The tremors shake your vehicle. Maybe it even makes you lose control briefly or sends you swerving off-road, straight into the fields. And in the middle of the fog, you see it: a figure standing in the middle of the field. Behind it are a few houses, making up a tiny rural town. The houses are dilapidated, many crumbling. Supplies within are minimal, and many items are broken or spoiled.

Do you approach? Do you drive past? Merely staring for a second too long will be enough for the hitchhiker to choose you as its ride, but its appearance may not be all that keeps you in place. In the distance is another bigger shadow. A much bigger shadow. It looms in the distance without true mass or form. Within the void of its body, a searchlight sweeps over the misty town. It does not move. It simply looks while the ground shakes. Each time its light catches a glimpse of something that doesn't belong—an animal, a vehicle that drove too deep into the tall grass, a raider that went too far into town—a sonorous howl reverberates through the zone.

Then the shadow will teleport to its target and crush the intruder without mercy before retreating back to its watchful post. And the intruder is indeed crushed: any living organism caught by the Light Guardian will be flattened with a horrifying crunch of broken bones and squished organs.

Zone Effects
While the Light Guardian can't be defeated or confronted, you can outrun or hide from its sweeping beam. If you stop far enough on the side of the road, it won't notice you...but you can still watch as it mangles an unfortunate raider or traveler. Possibly, you see the spray of blood or hear the screams before you run. Perhaps you realize how easily you could've met your own gory fate.

If you've left your car and gone too deep into the town before you realize the danger, you can do one of two things: you can risk hiding in an abandoned house in the town and hope that the sunrise comes. In zones like this, the day/night cycle is unpredictable, and many places are permanently cast in darkness. Or, you can try to run back to your vehicle and pray you don't get caught.

Alternatively, you've plowed directly into the field when raiders in pursuit force you into the zone. Should fortune favor you, they'll be obliterated by the Light Guardian while you flee. The beam tracks quickly, but can only shine in one direction at a time so the key is to bob and weave.

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Hitchhikers

Anywhere

Not everyone who enters the diffusion zone will pick up a mannequin, but the possibility is there. Once you make first contact, you will gain a hitchhiker. Unlike most aspects of the diffusion zones, this one has gathered into a storm, meaning the effects will breach even normally stable and anchored strongholds like Panorama.

Some fluxdrifts will brush off your problems while a few might believe you. Others will offer solutions in their own way, including a doctor who'll pay to obtain strange plastic limbs. Not everyone will pitch in to help. The city's big, populated, and somebody on the street turning doll-like doesn't affect them (...until it does). They've got a job to get to and mouths to feed.

Unwanted Passenger

When do you first notice your passenger? At any point, really. Perhaps it goes like this:

You glance in the rearview mirror and glimpse a figure in the backseat. When you spin around, there's nobody there. Then it happens again. This time, you realize it's not a person, but a dummy. A mannequin. It's sitting upright. And is it...wearing a seatbelt? Or maybe it's thrown itself across the back bench as though somebody tossed it there, uncaring.

This time, when you look back, it's still there. You pull over and dump it on the side of the road. That's taken care of, you think. You drive some more. For a few hours or even a day or two—depending on how long you've traveled—you don't think much of it. Then suddenly, it's back. And it keeps coming back no matter how much you try to get rid of it.

Or it goes like this:

You return from a standard trip into a diffusion zone. It went pretty well, you think. You found some clothes at a creepy mall and now you're ready to get some sleep. When you open your trunk to retrieve your belongings, you notice a mannequin stuffed inside, limbs bent at odd angles. You're a little weirded out, but you decide to dump it on the street and move on.

You shower. In the bathroom mirror, the mannequin suddenly appears behind you. Over the next few days, this continues. The mannequin appears in a booth across the diner as you're eating your eggs. It's behind a shelf in the corner store. It's in your closet. Each time you check, it vanishes...but then, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it's right there in plain view. It'll even let you throw it away, burn it, anything you can think of. But it always comes back.

However it plays out, you realize that people around you do notice it...sometimes. That doesn't mean anyone will believe you that things are just that weird. Most people have better things to do. They don't know you, after all, and even if they did, well, this place does have a habit of driving people a little crazy. Witnesses casually push the mannequin aside and tell you that's a funny prank. Your regular waitress pats your shoulder and suggests you get some sleep. You're not looking well. The shopkeeper demands you take that thing before you go. He's not responsible for your junk.

But there's a small chance you run into someone who seems to be going through what you are. Unfortunately, they seem to actually have it worse and aren't making much sense. Still, you can try questioning them and see what answers you get. At least, before you lose them for good. For some of you, the victim you run into is in especially bad shape...and you have to wonder how long before you end up the same.

Trading Places

For some of you, the mannequins might not do more than be a nuisance. While that's not ideal, either, it doesn't completely upend your life. Others are less fortunate. If you're one of the latter, you'll begin to notice symptoms.

The first time it happens, you're startled to hear the mannequin speak. To begin with, its voice might be guttural and unnatural, incapable of stringing more than a few words together. Then it seems to learn. It talks in full sentences. Its voice smooths out. It starts to sound more and more like you...right down to your speech patterns and accent. As symptoms progress with varying intensity—over days or weeks—you realize with dawning horror that you're losing parts of yourself. When you wash your hands, you notice a part of your skin is smooth and shiny. The next time the mannequin appears, its previously plasticky appearance is more flesh and blood.

Eventually, the mannequin becomes independent. It shops with your money. It steals while wearing a face that looks nearly identical to yours, especially from a distance. It calls your friend and says the things you would never say out loud to them. They're thoughts you've had, sure, but you know better than to hurt your friend's feelings...except apparently, you have. And now you can't even use your own voice to explain yourself. Your leg has been getting stiff. Your joints don't bend properly.

Meanwhile, the mannequin is now striding around smoothly. Its appearance is still uncanny and odd if anyone pays attention, but at a glance, it easily passes as a part of the crowd. As its final act, it's even absorbed small bits of your abilities if you have any. Not all of them, but enough to cause trouble. Throughout everything, you cannot harm your hitchhiker. Some unknown force stops you any time you think about it. You simply can't.

Related Incidents

The impact isn't contained only to those directly affected. The hitchhikers' influence spreads through the city. For some incidents, it's difficult to trace back to the source. For others, that's a little easier. Regardless, these occurrences could help you determine how to solve your own situation. Alternatively, if you've escaped unscathed, you can still find yourself dragged into a situation involving someone else.

Return to Sender

July 11 — The Forum: An anonymous poster contributes this bit of information that might catch the eye of those affected. You can try the same method, but it's a risk going back into the diffusion zones. No one can guarantee the specific zone you found the mannequin in is still standing. Further, you have to remember where you made contact to begin with.

If you decide to try it, be sure to take a friend. The less independent the hitchhiker, the more likely it will stick to your side even as you return it home. If the assimilation has progressed too far, though, you might have to utilize methods such as duct taping inside your trunk or strapping it down with ropes. It may struggle and say vile things to you or your companion.

Victimless Burn Victims

July 14 @ 03:00 — The Pavilion (East End): A handful of troublemakers grabbed some freaky mannequins wandering the street and, in a drunken stroke of genius, set them all on fire for no reason other than that they wanted to. Not only has this resulted in damage to the corner store nearby, but Enforcers have linked the incident to four hospitalizations at roughly the same time. Doctors from Saint Margery's Hospital (located in the Blocks) report that all four individuals suffered massive shock and claim to have endured unimaginable agony as if they had been "set on fire."

Curiously, none of them bear any physical wounds and, by all accounts, are completely fine (trauma aside). Notably, all four individuals were also suffering from various stages of "joint stiffness" and "hallucinations"...which have since completely vanished. You might wonder, is this the solution? Or perhaps the better question would be, is it worth it?

The Sculptor

July 15 — The Pavilion (Medical Clinic): Around July 14 onward, word begins to spread that a Dr. Maggie Wright (who insists on being called the Sculptor, though nobody seems to heed this request) will not only do an amputation for free, she will pay you for your limb if you are boasting an "unusual trophic change to the skin, resulting in a smooth and shiny texture." All she asks is she gets to keep the sample. Her promise is that she will study it to find a more permanent cure and, if she does, she will return the limb to you for reattachment.

Some end up trusting her. You wonder, maybe she could help? Dr. Wright will happily accept you as her patient if you agree. Her methods are indeed proper and sterile: she'll put you under and provide you with plenty of pain meds. She appears to have all of the equipment required to preserve the limb, too.

If you're suspicious, you can also pay her a visit, but you won't have much luck getting her in trouble or sniffing out any evidence of nefarious deeds. Her office hasn't got anything strange, she is indeed a real surgeon, and there are testimonials from patients who've had success under her care in the past. Plus, nobody's going to her who isn't doing so voluntarily (they've signed waivers)—even if you could argue how much desperation plays into their decision. Still...the thing about her "title" is a bit weird, right?

Dr. Maggie Wright is 5'2, Caucasian with a light Northeastern accent and silver hair often worn in a bun. She's in her 50s and looks fairly good for her age. Her voice is soothing. She has intense, wide blue eyes, which some might find unnerving, but that's not necessarily her fault.

∞ Notes ∞

• Mannequin contact is not required. Not everybody who goes into the diffusion will make first contact, and many won't. Characters can explore the mall, the temple, and the foggy field without ever picking up a hitchhiker.
• The diffusion zones described are only examples. Others will exist where mannequins can be found, including grocery stores, gas stations, abandoned parks, and more. You can make up your own, but check with us if you have any questions about limitations!
• The speed and intensity of all mechanics are entirely up to you. Generally, the earlier a character makes first contact, the more severe their consequences.
• Investigating the zones or helping others are perfectly fine ways to participate! Since the hitchhikers are meant to be more insidious, it won't be strange if your character isn't in the middle of the action right away or notices things a bit late.

Questions? Ask here

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Comments

karen page { mcu

[pagings]

[ ooc plotting comment || starters to follow, some closed, some ota. || disarmingly or disarmingly @ disco for any questions or plots! ]

benny.

[pagings]

[ it feels oddly familiar, to be forcing herself to go through the motions of whatever routine she's started to build when she knows there is something wrong. ever since she started hearing the stories from the diner patrons, every since she went out there herself and picked up that hitchhiker, ever since she noticed something wasn't quite right with how the mannequin was now moving, copying her, acting.

karen doesn't know what to do with it - she knows there are others, knows that she's not the only one with the shadow, and the more she hears about friends acting out, weird disappearances of family, she is starting to wonder...

but her wondering can't distract her from her job. with her growing debt and her motel bills, and how she's already bypassed through one job, she can't lose this one too. so she puts her head down and shows up to those shifts, no matter how unwieldy the schedule ends up being, and just tries to keep it going. and honestly- the job is a nice distraction, between her coworkers, the work, and of course the people. the customers. it keeps her going, and it's nice.

she's at work when the bell above the front door rings. she's messing with the coffee maker (a pretty frequent job of her's, she's finding out) but out of the corner of her eye she sees a familiar figure. karen glances, quickly, and smiles. ]

Hi Benny! [ another new employee, a fry cook in the kitchen, someone who karen has actually really liked meeting. they haven't worked too many shifts together, yet, but benny has been wonderful, charming and kind and good at his job, too.

she's distracted, so she doesn't notice anything off about who she assumes is benny. not the way it looks around the empty dining room and how karen seems to be the only other person there. instead, karen curses, wincing at a hiss of hot water before she sighs. ] I think Wade mentioned that we're almost out of eggs... you might need to check, but they said the next delivery won't be for another couple of days.

[tataille]

[ The mannequin stops just inside the door like it’s calculating something. Not scanning for customers. Not checking the board. Just… still. Watching.

It’s movements are off, stilted and a little jerky, like it’s wearing a body that doesn’t fit. The whole ‘transformation’ isn’t complete, small favors, but hell if it still isn’t eerie and damn difficult to tell the difference on first glance. The stance is familiar enough, the clothes resemble Benny’s, even down to his jaunty little hat he favors. But the pause between blinks is too long, the grin too wide. It stares at Karen, eyes flat as glass, like it’s trying to puzzle something out, how to play it, how to be.

After a far too long stare, it remembers to ‘smile’, rictus-like, to stretched across its face. ]

Hey there, sugar.

[ The drawl itself is familiar, but the warmth is long gone. Benny’s voice has never sounded this hollow; this is a close imitation and pretty convincing, if you’re not paying too much attention. But…something about the way it leans against the counter is also wrong. It’s all so, so wrong. ]

Eggs.

[ The mannequin repeats the word like it’s trying it out. Then nods, slow and deliberate, before turning and walking—not toward the back kitchen like a fry cook should, but toward the napkin dispenser. It takes a handful of them, crumples one in its fist, and tucks the rest under its arm like spoils of war. Then, it looks at Karen again with that same plastic smile, and steps towards her. ]

You’re real pretty, you know that?

[ It says it like a compliment, but damn if it doesn’t feel like a warning. ]

[pagings]

[ karen's distracted, or else she probably would have noticed the jerky movements. the far too long stare. as it happens, the few interactions she and benny have had have been enough for her to let her guard down. and when he does speak, even if it's a couple of seconds later than would probably be normal, it has that same comforting drawl - even if it's lacking something else.

karen chalks it up to the fact they don't really know each other that well - coworkers, at best. he says hey there sugar and when she finally gives up on the coffee maker, she turns and sees the funny little hat on his head, and she smiles - welcoming, friendly. he leans against the counter and she wipes her hands on her apron. ]

That's what he said. How we got that low in the first place, I don't know, but I guess it could have been the night shift from the other day.

[ that's when she sees him take a couple of steps over to the napkin dispenser and pull a few out. it's... strange. weird. enough that her brow furrows a little as he tucks it under his arm and turns back to her. it's when he turns that she also notices the smile, and what had moments before been a curiosity now starts to feel a little less innocent. you're real pretty should be a compliment, and normally karen might have flushed at it. turned a little red and flustered. but something in his voice doesn't land, and instead she crosses her arms across her chest. ]

Thanks... [ the smile lingers, but it's more hesitant than anything. like she's afraid to let it drop, entirely, even as her eyes flick from the napkin dispenser under his arm and then back to his face. ] Hey...you feeling okay?

[tataille]

[ The mannequin’s head tilts a little too far to the left at the question, like it’s trying to calculate the correct response. It holds still just a second too long again, then jerks into motion with a slow blink, plastic smile fixed in place. ]

Feelin’ just fine, darlin’. Better’n ever.

[ It says it like it thinks that’s what Benny would say, except he wouldn't say that, not to someone he barely knew. Sure Benny's friendly, but he's not a creeper. He's a respectful criminal and murderer, thank you very much. And this mannequin is ruining his fucking life, coming in and talking like some knockoff horror movie freak.

The cadence of its voice is close to Benny's, but not quite right, the pauses just a little too deliberate, the twang exaggerated. It doesn’t sound like Benny - not really. Just sounds like someone playing house with his skin.

The napkins under its arm crinkle as it steps closer. One falls, fluttering to the floor, but it doesn’t notice. Instead, it just tilts its head again, eyes glassy and unmoving, forgetting now to blink. ]

Better'n ever.

[ It repeats itself again, stilted and awkward and too gravelly, and takes another step closer. ]

You’re a nice girl, Karen. Be a real shame if somethin’ happened to you.

[ A beat, and then, like it’s realized that came out wrong (or did it?), it lets out a thin, stuttering chuckle, attempting to smooth it over with a shrug, the motion stiff as splintered wood. ]

Kiddin’. Ha ha.

[pagings]

[ his head tilts too far left at the question, and karen's gut clenches. something is wrong, very wrong, and whether or not she knows benny well enough to be able to tell by the way he's simply looking at her, she can tell the difference in his demeanor. the too-wide smile, the flatness of his eyes. she doesn't know what it means, or what's even happening, but her thoughts do go back to the stories she's been hearing. the people doing things that aren't them.

she thinks about her own hitchhiker, back in her apartment, the way it appears behind her, tilts its head just so. thinks about that unsettled feeling that hasn't really left her since she got back.

and this- this thing looks just like benny. and kind of sounds like benny, too - the accent, at least. something that benny might have said. but the thing is, karen likes to think she has a really good sense of people. likes to think she can tell genuine charisma from creeps. benny never gave her those vibes. never made her hackles go up.

whoever this is has karen's hackles up. has her feeling off. it says better'n ever. and karen frowns as her eyes follow the napkin that falls to the floor, and then are back on him, and she suddenly sees it. the glassy eyes. the disconnected look. you're a nice girl, karen. and that's when that unsettled feeling starts to feel like panic, like alarm bells. be a real shame if somethin' happened to you.

that is panic that swells in her. she swallows.

the next step it takes towards her, she takes a step back, suddenly very aware of how it's between her and the front door. ]

Why would something happen to me, Benny? [ his name feels weird in her mouth, like sand, but she tries to keep it going. ]

cassian.

[pagings]

[ at first, the stories are harmless enough. karen hasn't worked at the diner long enough to have true regulars, but there are a couple of people who have started to frequent her shifts, and who definitely like to chat. some of the stories have been the patron telling her, directly, after her polite 'how's your day been so far?'. other stories she overhears as she moves between tables, behind the bar. tales of coworkers acting off, claims of family members stealing from other family members, of friends who have up and vanished without a trace. objectively, she knows that none of this is particularly surprising. from what she's gathered of panorama, people go missing often, and even more often than that, people tend to not be who you think they are.

still - it becomes unavoidable at a certain point, specifically when she sees the forum post about the missing girl, when three more people come into her shift talking about it all, and she realizes - quite suddenly - that she's going to join the group and head out there to look for her. karen thinks about texting a few people, but the one she ends up sending is to cassian, a voice in the back of her head telling her that if she doesn't ask him, he'll probably head out there himself.

it's mid afternoon- she's just finished a weirdly-combined shift and hasn't really slept, but she also knows she can't if she wants to get out there with enough time. she has the next day off, just over 30 hours before she has to be back in the diner, and she hopes that will be enough (the only other diffusion zones she's been in she's been in for much longer than intended, so she tries to give herself a little more wiggle room). ]

You busy?
I think I'm going to head out and look for that missing girl.

[diametrically]

[ Cassian isn't an active participator on the forums. While he's been operating (read: living life like a normal person here, or as normal as anyone can get) as himself without some sort of alias, his caution and paranoia still gives him enough sense not to be so public on forums that offer little to no encryption. Just because he isn't actively posting however, doesn't mean he isn't monitoring them.

Which is naturally how he catches wind of the missing girl.

For all of his determination to not become too involved in this place, it's hard to ice out the part of his heart that will always feel a need to act when it comes to people who have gone missing. Particularly young girls. Young girls like Kerri. All the same, he does try to reason himself out of it over the course of several days. Some part of him hopes that the physicality of his work at the mechanics shop will help drown it out of his mind. There are others who monitor the forums. Others who will probably heed the call.

But ultimately it's Karen's message that tips him over the precipice, the final thing that he needs to make up his mind. ]

Is this an invitation?
Or you telling me so I can check in if I don't hear back?

[pagings]

[ karen checks the forums, but she also knows herself well enough to know that if she let herself dig in, she could lose herself in it. the access, the information, the conversations - it's addicting, and she knows it's a lot more than she can handle, and knows that there isn't anything she could hope to find answers to without something more.

so she doesn't let herself fully go. she checks it, reads up on what she can between her shifts and when she can't sleep, and she goes from there.

this one sticks with her, between the stories, and now the message. the concept of a missing girl. a child. rumors. it sticks somewhere in her brain, doesn't leave her alone, and maybe that is why she reaches out to cassian. because part of her, deep down, knows cassian is the same as her that way. isn't someone who can just let this go. she's not used to asking for people to come along with her, and honestly, she wasn't sure if he'd respond. but she does know that he cares, would care about this girl just as he cared about her, and maybe something can happen. ]

Only if you've got some free time. :)
But I have a feeling something is happening out there and I want to check it out.

[diametrically]

[ He's of the mind that the more information they have the better. And though a lot of it is just mindless chatter akin to forums that he's used to in his galaxy, that means there's the potential for a nugget of truth, of real information to slip through the cracks. It was just going to take time for him to discern what those were on this planet. But maybe that would be easier to figure out alongside somebody else. And specifically a like-minded someone else.

Cassian has rarely been one to succumb to peer pressure or the opinions of others; he's difficult to sway, stubborn and and set in his ways. Granted, that has changed over the years because it was necessary, because he'd had blinders on. But helping people? Someone in need who was at risk of becoming swallowed by something greater than themselves? His bleeding heart has never stopped caring about those people. About helping those kinds of people.

Maybe that's why he's taken such a shine to Karen and quietly committed to himself that he'll help her with whatever it is she might need. And if it just so happens to align to a thing that he was already thinking about doing? It seems like an easy decision to him. ]

For you?
I could probably make some.
I'll come to yours. Any idea on what we need to bring?

[ He'd heard it was a long drive - 10 or so hours at least. But maybe she had read something that he hadn't. ]

[pagings]

[ they're both going to feel a bit ridiculous as they're out there and get the update that the child has been found. but as it stands, this is a moment where karen can't shake it, that feeling that if she doesn't at least try, she's just as good as anyone else deciding the fate of that poor girl. she isn't yet experienced in the ways of endless chatter, in as much information that means nothing as there is otherwise. but she does still trust her gut, there is something out there, and they'll have to figure out the rest.

and here's the thing: maybe karen knows that cassian isn't one to fall to peer pressure. there is something in that silent understanding that they both are just as stubborn and set in their own choices. but what karen has noticed, with all of that, is that the things that do move them - people, usually. helping people who need it (maybe because no one helped them) are the same. a part of her knew cassian couldn't say no if she brought up the child, the ask to join her.

she's going, whether or not he comes. she just hopes he does. ]

Aw, such flattery ;)
I'd bring some snacks, maybe a weapon?
Who knows what we'll find out there, but I'm packing a bag just in case.
I'll see you in a few?

[diametrically]

[ Ridiculous, yes. But relieved nonetheless. Better that she was found than not. Had she remained missing, it's entirely plausible that it would cling to them like a phantom cobweb. It would be one more mystery to add to the pile that had already begun to accumulate that they may or may not ever find an answer to.

But at least they aren't going through that alone. At least they're trying.

In a short amount of time, Karen had figured out what levers to pull with him, figured out what had been enough to make him move. It's a more or less the equivalent of him showing her the heart he wears on his sleeve that he does a poor job of hiding at times. That sort of information would be enough for him to ensure he put healthy distance between her and him - but in a strange world with no support systems, some part of him subconsciously understands how important he is that he finds some semblance of it here. ]

I was going to do the same
See you soon.

[ And true to his word he's there in almost no time at all, his own pack shoved in the backseat. As soon as she leaves her apartment complex, he's around the side, opening the passenger's door for her. ]

There's been no new reports in the last couple of hours. We might still be able to find her before something shifts or changes.

[pagings]

[ but that's just it, isn't it - cassian did show her his heart, the same one he wears on her sleeve, and maybe this is her way of pulling back her own sleeve just a little more. their thoughts are in the same place, their hearts along the same line. and yes, maybe they will feel a little ridiculous, but it is better than staying awake for days, wondering if they had simply done one thing differently, if only they had left a little sooner.

in the end, this option will turn out to be better, despite what the two of them might bring home.

still - karen's just relieved to know she isn't going into this alone. were there other's she could have probably called? yes. but cassian was the first one who she didn't feel somewhat paranoid asking, who didn't think her request sounded a little too worried for a girl they didn't even know. cassian, she had thought, would be just as worried. maybe just worried enough to join (as long as he didn't have work tomorrow).

see you soon. she's smiling a bit to herself, responds with a quick- ]

See you soon!

[ and then she's frantically packing away anything she might need. truthfully, karen hasn't been around nearly enough to have much to her name beyond a few sets of clothes and a couple of key items, ammo for her gun, and a small first aid kit. but before she realizes it, her bag is full and she is heading outside, finding cassian already there, opening up the car door for her.

she laughs a little, nodding in thanks as she climbs in and sets her bag behind the seat with his, buckling up. ]

Hopefully she hasn't gone far. Thanks for driving, too.

[ it's going to be a long one, after all. but she's okay with that, okay to fill the time with easy chatter, reading cassian aloud any other comments on the forum posts, any chatter that may or may not have come through. as people make it out into the diffusion zones, they start hearing more and more, and karen keeps them both up to date.

figures it's the least she can do, since he's the one driving. unless he decides to switch - something she offers to do more than once.

it's some time in, but not the full 10 hours, that things start to get dark. karen sits up in her chair, leaning forward towards the windshield when she notices it. ]

Do you see that?

amos.

[pagings]

[ karen feels the panic sweep through her when she recognizes the street. she's been chasing her mannequin on and off for a week or so, now - managing to restrain it some days, but coming home to find its broken free others. she's warned some of the people she assumes it'll go after (after it baited and went after logan, karen's had a bad feeling that it's attracted, somehow, to the people she knows... how, she hasn't figured out. why she also hasn't figured out either, but nothing about this makes any sense, so she's decided to try and trust her gut on this one) but it's never perfect, and she's never sure if they come through.

so when she notices the corner, recognizes the mechanic shop just a few doors down, and then hears a crashing, she bolts straight through the open garage door.

the mannequin looks almost exactly like her, something that has become increasingly terrifying to face. the features are off, not quite where they need to be and somehow a little too extreme and a little too flat at the same time. for the last couple of weeks karen isn't even sure she's slept, that unsettling, uncomfortable feeling of either the mannequin being in her room or out there, cause trouble for anyone it comes across. the guilt of it eats away at her, but there's something in the back of her mind - a theory she's been hearing others have tried, something that has worked in ways that nothing else has. she doesn't know how she feels about the risk, what it might do, but she's getting to the end of her rope. ]

Amos? Cassian? [ she knows they both work here, but hasn't ever really come by when they're both on shift together. still, the panic twisting at her throat makes it hard to remember who works when, if they've even told her their schedule. ] It's not me! It's- [ another crash, and winces, then starts into the shop. ]