etrayalogs | DECEMBER MINGLE

Entry tags:

DECEMBER MINGLE

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: December 21st - Early January
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: Newcomers, a surprise gift from Tatianna, and a visitor!
NOTES\WARNINGS:

⏵ arrival ⏴
Welcome to Etraya!

Arrival goes as expected - characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital.

The lobby is filled to the brim with tables of freshly baked goods. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banners are taped to the walls, and several other typical birthday decorations can be found in this area. A few of the baked goods tables are lined with massive cakes covered in unlit candles, just waiting for someone to grab a lighter and sing off-key. Is it anyone's birthday? Who knows! The companion bots seem to believe it's every new arrival's birthday and will greet them as such - with friendly waves and cheers as they make their way to the lobby.

A coat rack is situated by the doors leading out of the hospital, covered in warm clothing that fits the new arrivals just right - whether it's to their preferred style or not is something else entirely. Some of them appear normal enough. Others? Well. They can't all be perfect, now can they?

Outside the windows, the grass is covered in a couple of inches of loosely packed snow.

We hope you enjoy your stay.

⏵ an unexpected gift ⏴

Out by the hospital stands a tall, decorated tree covered in candles and golden pinecones with a handsome, red velveteen tree skirt. In front of it are a few oversized wrapped gifts for show- and atop one of those sits a familiar woman. Or unfamiliar, if this is your first time.

It's Tatianna in a slutty Santa outfit with a big ol’ burlap sack.

“Hey, I got something for you,” she says, digging into the bag and rummaging for a moment.

She produces a painted egg and holds it aloft.

“It’s your Winter Solstice Egg! This is the egg holiday, right? Wait, shit. I’m mixing them up, aren’t I? ...Well. It’s a little late to change it. Here you go!”

How one treats their egg is fully up to themselves. They can choose to ignore it entirely, or destroy it and leave the yolk and innards to rot on the ground. They can hand it over to someone else or care for it as if it were something precious. No one will prevent them from doing whatever they please with it!

⏵ naughty or nice ⏴However, how they treat the egg will define how the egg treats them in return.

Those who keep the egg and tend to it will get the benefit of being able to watch it hatch seven days after they are handed the egg. Eggs that are treated with attention and love may yield a loyal companion, or a weapon of choice that always returns to its owner, while neglected eggs may yield a curious, cursed trinket or an animal who treats its new owner very much the same way its owner had treated it before it was born.

Please submit an egg request below for what items you would like your character's eggs to hatch into! Please note that these cannot be things that would be applicable in the game.

Those whose eggs are destroyed or forgotten will simply get the gift of... nothing!

⏵ free your spirit ⏴

With the winter chill gripping the air, a mysterious figure makes their presence known in Etraya - a towering, horned creature dragging a massive sack behind them.

𝓐 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝓴 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓.

Regardless of a character's strengths or weaknesses, they will find that when Krampus raises his massive sack over their head, they are powerless to stop him from catching them. Those capable of great magical feats or other supernatural abilities will sense something... otherworldly about Krampus, but will not be able to place the source of that sensation.

Once within Krampus' sack, they are welcome to fight, but escape is impossible. It will feel as if Krampus is dragging them over every rock possible, dragging the sack in through the rivers to the point it soaks through and drenches them - potentially almost drowning them.

When the sack opens, they will find themselves in an impossibly dark space. Around them are others who have also been captured and dragged here by Krampus, trapped in small cages hanging from a massive, wiry tree.

Krampus will return often, banging clawed hands and birch rods on the walls of the cages and knocking them into one another.
𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘𝖘.
The whisper resonates through the darkened area, regardless of Krampus' presence. Confess your secrets, and be freed. Otherwise? You'd better hope someone figures out where Krampus has set up base; those who refuse to confess may find themselves stuck here forever.

⏵ NOTES ⏴

Krampus' base is under Etraya! Deep within the catacombs, he has set up multiple cages to capture those who inhabit Etraya to punish them for their naughty habits. Fighting him is possible! Defeating him by means of combat is not, however, possible. Think of it like fighting a god: Krampus creates the rules in the space around him, including who can use what ability.

For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He does not. Unfortunately. Carver scrubs a tired hand through his hair, thinking. This all seems so goddamn high school, he's not sure what to make of it. But if they can't get out of the cages, either they'll die of dehydration or something worse will happen. He's not a big fan of either solution. ]

Worst job was running guns out of Siberia. Lost three guys and I still can't feel the tips of my ears.

[ Job, she said, and so he only names the things he was paid for. There were worse after the fall, and the fires. There were uglier wars. ]

Worst hookup? Some Marine out of Leatherneck. We fucked in the bathroom of some shithole bar, [ he says, blandly. ] I was drunk off my ass. My hair looked great when I was a kid. And the worst person I ever met was the CIA officer who trained me how to do interrogations. And not a one of these has opened the goddamn cage up, so I'm just gonna spitball here and say none of them were personal enough.

Your worst hookup was a Marine?

[ Shaw asks, faintly scandalized. Way to let down the brotherhood, anonymous jarhead.

But he's right: none of these are doing anything. And while Shaw has secrets that she'll keep to herself no matter the situation - the kinds of secrets that Decima had spent nearly a year trying and failing to pry out of her - she also has the other, more mundane kind. The kind that she simply doesn't want to talk about.

This sucks. ]

Pretty much everyone I know is either dead or gone.

[ Her voice is dull, full of tired resignation. ]

Except a couple of them are okay here, because they're from the past.

Waste of the condoms, [ he agrees blandly. Goddamn Marines. But then, back then he'd been a drunken mess out of the field. Shaw and Pope eventually read him the riot act and told him they wouldn't take him on jobs anymore unless he straightened his shit out. Then the world ended, and there was no time for drunken nonsense with idiot Marines.

He rests his head against the bars, watching the other woman. Wondering what the fuck he's supposed to do with this moment. The cage remains stubbornly closed and he doesn't care to die of dehydration down here.

Then she continues. She shares a truth. ]

They know you? [ he asks, a touch softer. ]

Yeah. They're not from that far back, just a couple years.

[It doesn't bother her, really. Sure, it's kind of annoying that they're so in the dark and that they don't have the same context for things that she does, and she has the strong sense that they're confused by and wary of her; that they think she's nuts. But they're still Reese and Finch, and their presence is bolstering.]

They know you can't tell if this is real or not?

[ It's a blunt question, softly asked. It seems relevant. Sometimes, Carver hears voices in the corners. Sometimes he sees his ghosts there, following in his wake. He's never told a soul that. ]

No. They would if they were from my time, but--

[She shakes her head.]

It's better this way. There's a lot that it's a pain in the ass for them not to know, but the really bad stuff - I'm fine with keeping that to myself.

[ Thing is, Carver understands that. The burden of command, he almost calls it, except he doesn't know where this woman fits in that structure. She isn't one of his but every group has its hierarchies. And there are always secrets. Things held back on the need to know.

You compartmentalize. You make it work.

He rests his head against the bars, watching her. Sounds lonely, he doesn't say. It's not that kind of moment. ]

Gotta keep the forward momentum, right?

[As they've swung their cages and berated Krampus and tried to sort out the magic confessional words that will spring them loose, Shaw has glanced over at Carver several times. Now, though, she properly looks at him, turning her body towards him and studying his face.]

Is that possible here?

[It's a genuine question. She's been in Etraya for such a short time, and she doesn't at all feel like she has a handle on what it really is, or how much she believes what she's been told. But even if it is exactly what it claims to be, nothing more and nothing less, then it doesn't seem like a place where forward momentum is possible. Everyone is just stumbling around in the dark, hoping against hope that they'll do something to justify being saved.

... Maybe this is a good question to ask the religious guy.]

Don’t know.

[ If they’re really dead and in Hell, then they’re due some suffering. There won’t be anything to do about that except take it.

He watches her in the dark. Calculating. Wondering if God loves this one. ]

But you move or you die, and God doesn’t love the lazy.

[You move or you die. God, she knows the feeling well, and she absolutely prefers it to downtime. No matter what's happening, no matter how awful things are- as long as she has something concrete to do, she's okay. She snaps him a tired salute, intoning dryly:]

Amen.

[And then, lo and behold, Krampus reappears and unlocks her cage door.

She immediately pushes her way out and full-body attacks him, of course.]

[ Okay. That’s definitive. Carver shifts his weight, readying himself, but Krampus or whatever the fuck this thing is doesn’t seem overly bothered.

He grits his teeth. Honesty, right? Fine. ]

If my sister’s dead, it’s because of me.

[ There’s a pause. And then the bottom of his cage just drops out.

He doesn’t land on his head, thankfully. ]

[Shaw's efforts are indeed anticlimactic: she knows her bullets will just bounce off the creature, so she's hoping that a more direct attack will net better results - but Krampus flicks at her like she's a mosquito, and despite how hard she's digging into his furry body, she flies right off and lands on her back on the ground. She lifts her head just in time to see Carver fall out of his own cage.]

... Huh. Okay.

[Good job, team?]

[ He lands hard, but rights himself just as fast, drawing his secondary knife.

Krampus, meanwhile, seems to give them a look and then just walks away. Carver lowers the knife. ]

Okay. That was a weird one.

I wanna make him into a rug.

[She says, winded, glaring up at the ceiling for several moments before she pushes herself up on her elbows.]

You good?

I'd help, [ Carver groans, rolling his shoulders. Ow. ] And I'll live.

[ It feels like he might've strained something, but he's walked off worse. ]

[Shaw apparently feels the same, because she pulls herself to her feet without another word about it, reflexively drawing her gun as she scopes out their dark, dank, cavelike surroundings. She might not be able to hurt Krampus, but that doesn't mean there won't be other threats.]

Good; now let's get out of here.

You got a name?

[ It's not the first time he's been dumped out in the dark without a gun. One threat's dealt with - apparently - but there will always be others. He knows this in his soul. He keeps his knife close at hand, ready. ]

Carver. You?

Shaw.

[She turns in a slow circle, taking in the room, and then picks a corridor, using her gun to scrape the rock wall right next to the entrance. She has no idea how big this space is, but if they end up back here, she wants to know which path they already investigated.]

[ That stills him for a brief moment. She isn't looking at him when he says it, isn't outwardly clocking his reaction. But that name -

Hell of a coincidence, isn't it? ]

Funny. That's my sister's name, too.

[ He says it rather blandly. ]

[Just because she hadn't commented on the thing that had sprung him from his cage doesn't mean she hadn't heard it, so he gets another quick look when he says that.]

You don't know if she's okay?

[ Instinctively, he moves to match her pace. Covering her corners just like he would for his sister if they were clearing an unknown space. ]

I heard her get shot. Large caliber. Close range. Would've been through the back.

[ His jaw works. He swallows that anger down. ]

But I didn't see her fall.

I got that through the front once. I was captured, but I lived.

[She doesn't stop walking, and she doesn't look over at him again, giving him privacy in his reaction.]

It's not over until you see the body.

[ His jaw works. He fights past the anger and the vicious, ugly shame he feels at failing her. He owes his sister everything and he's failed her at every turn. If she's alive, he'll find her again. He did once before, even though it took him years.

In the end, he keeps pace. He watches this Shaw's back. ]

If she's alive, she's the commander now. I'll follow her. And if she's not, then I'll bury her with the others.

[Still facing forward, Shaw nods; that makes perfect sense to her, and is probably exactly what she'd do in his position. She's also happy to leave that particular topic there - which is a good thing, because when she rounds a corner and finds herself facing a long hall lined with row upon row of human skulls, all thoughts of anything else leave her mind anyway.]

-- Crap.

[She says, stopping dead.]

Hey, Carver, this isn't any old cave. If we don't want to risk aimlessly wandering until we starve to death, we need to stay put until we get some direction.

[She still has no idea how big this place is, but she's aware of how big places like this often are, and trying to do this on their own isn't worth the risk. So she taps on her earpiece, activates the HUD (luckily, she's already experimented with this), and scrolls down the list of users until she finds the one she's looking for.]

Reese.

[She says, out loud.]

I think I'm lost in an underground catacomb.

[ Ah. That's fun.

Carver steps closer, examining the skulls. It's not the first time he's seen displays like that. He tilts his head toward Shaw, though. Listening intently. ]

Friend of yours?

[ Whoever she's calling, he means. Not the skulls. ]

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