DECEMBER MINGLE

[etrayamods]

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⏴

Comments

[cactusy]

You should ask Finch, not me; he could tell you.

[But even as she says it, she knows that he's not asking why bother in general. He's asking why she bothers herself. She sighs.]

It's a long story. A weird one, too. The short version is that I don't have real feelings and my moral compass is crap, but instead of turning into a serial killer, I got lucky - because I've been surrounded by good people my whole life, and they taught me the kinds of things I'd never have figured out on my own.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Well. That's a new one. ]

So, you're a sociopath.

[ Or something like that. He's known sociopaths. Usually, they were effective killers. Some had a tendency toward grandstanding. Others were simply efficient. Cold and to the point.

Not how he'd describe Shaw, here. Interesting. ]

What'd they teach you?

[cactusy]

Mm, the basics first. Help people, don't hurt people. The Marines taught me that it's okay to hurt bad people who are trying to hurt good people; the ISA taught me that it's okay to hurt pretty much anyone as long as you're trying to stop a greater wrong from being done. But Finch - he taught me how much the military overshot.

I guess where I went wrong was listening to organizations instead of people for a while, there.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Carver watches her again. Considering what she tells him, the words she choses. Her intonation. Information is useful, always. He might not be able to use it right now, but one day that could change. One day this could mean the difference between survival and getting stoved up on the killing fields. ]

You know what I figure out in Afghanistan? Everybody's out for themselves. Especially the Army. There's no greater good. There's just people, and most of those fuckers are greedy, selfish things who justify it by selling out a stranger instead of their brother - but oh, they'll do that if the price is right.

[ His voice is cool. ]

I believe in keeping the guy at my shoulder alive. That's the only good people like us get.

[cactusy]

Would you sell out a brother?

[She asks, studying his face.]

[fortitudosalutis]

Never.

[ He meets her gaze, unwavering. This, he swore at the beginning. A blood oath, regardless of cost. He has never broken it. ]

[cactusy]

[She gives him a sharp, businesslike nod. Good.]

You're right. Sometimes that is the best we get.

But Finch believes in trying for better, all the time, no matter how likely it is to get him killed. It's weird, and naive, and... yeah, sometimes frustrating. But he sticks with it, no matter how hard or dangerous it is. I can respect that.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ She doesn't waver. Not for a second. A true believer in a strange fucking philosophy.

Carver eyes her, but nods. He respects faith. ]

That why he has you? To do the hard shit?

[cactusy]

You kidding? Being the muscle's the easiest job in the world. Finch does the hard stuff - the thinking, the decision-making, the worrying. And John multitasks; he fights and he broods.

And Bear, obviously. He's the best of us all.

[She's leaving out a lot, of course. She has no idea if Finch tells anyone here about the Machine - part supervisor, part willing tool - but her inclination is to always keep that intel locked down.

And then there's Root.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ So, she's the door kicker. Not one of the leaders. It clarifies the hierarchy a touch. She's below John, who's below Harold. They've been doing it long enough to get good at it, though Shaw remembers more than the others or maybe just lived it longer than they have. That part's a little fuzzy. The possibilities are going to give him a damn headache, Carver thinks.

He scrubs at his face, watching her. ]

You ever outsource?

[ He sounds more tired than he means. But this place nags at him. He hasn't been able to sleep more than a few hours since he woke up in the hospital, grabbing for a wound that just wasn't there. He misses the clarity of a clear mission, even one that isn't his. ]

[cactusy]

Sometimes. Why, you looking for a new gig?

[He does seem to fit the type of person that Finch collects like ducklings.]

[fortitudosalutis]

Idle hands fuck you up.

[ He’s spent the majority of his time fortifying the apartment he’s claimed for his own, not sleeping, and building equipment caches. The bare necessity of survival. But here there’s plenty of food, electricity, medicine: everything they could need just laid out for the taking. He hasn’t had to kill a single rotter since he arrived and maybe that ought to feel like a vacation but mostly he’s convinced it’s a trap.

It’s better to stay busy. ]

oops, commented before i saw Harold's reply

[cactusy]

[Idle hands give you time to wonder about whether or not everything around you is a simulation carefully constructed to torture you. To think about how much you've lost, and how little you have now.

Shaw deeply understands the need to keep busy.]

Our old hideout is... weirdly public here. When we get back to the surface, come with me, and we can--

[She stops suddenly, as John's response comes through her earpiece; Carver will hear her half of the ensuing conversation.]

Re: oops, commented before i saw Harold's reply

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Hello, familiar voices. Carver steps forward, frowning. Cave navigation isn’t his strong suit. He can do it just fine in the mountains or the woods or in urban terrain, but Pope had them avoid caves for the very simple reason that while the dead can get lost, they don’t get tired.

He draws his knife, rolling his shoulders. ]

Okay. We can do that.

[cactusy]

[And off they go!]

You ever hear of Trémaux's algorithm?

[fortitudosalutis]

Not by that name. But I get the idea.

[ Treat it systematically, don’t go over the same ground twice. If they mark everything properly, in theory they should figure it out.

In theory, anyway. ]

[cactusy]

[In theory. Catacombs, from what she's heard, go on for miles and miles.

But this is where both that trust and that lack of fear come in, because she's not hesitating, and she won't until they come across one of their own knife marks again.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Onward, then. What fun. Carver moves reflexively to cover Shaw's corners, just like he would for his own sister. He tells himself it's the practical action now, that it won't last. Even if he does sign up with Harold's weird ass operation for a job or two, that's just to spend the time. To keep his skills sharp. The commander would understand that - right?

It occurs to him, though, that he doesn't know that. Not for certain.

His fingers twitch. He puts that thought away in a little box. ]

What'd you and Reese do for him, anyway? Specifically.

[cactusy]

Saving people. Finding bad guys and stopping them. I don't know what they do here, but I'm guessing it's not that different.

[Harold had been remarkably consistent, even with the occasional crisis of conscience, and once she and John had signed up, so had they. She can't imagine that they're working as actual librarians now.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ It sounds like comic book bullshit, Carver doesn't say, though the look he gives her is slightly incredulous at the phrasing. ]

Bad guys, [ he repeats. ] Okay. Sure. How's he defining that?

[cactusy]

Bigger than schoolyard bullies, smaller than terrorists.

[A 5 on the patented Sameen Shaw Bad Guy Continuum, if you will.]

Basically, if they're going to hurt or kill an innocent person, Finch wants to stop them.

[fortitudosalutis]

Sounds relative.

[ Sounds like bullshit in his book, but apparently Harold Finch is loaded back in the real world. He's given up trying to understand why rich people do the shit they do. ]

How'd you even find those people?

[cactusy]

My last career had just ended badly. I needed help, they provided it, and then they made me a job offer.

[It is, as ever, the partial bare-bones explanation. These aren't questions that she minds, really, but the full answers are all tied up in secrets, details she doesn't want to talk about, or both. She doesn't know enough about this place to know if talking about the Machine is a bad idea. And she still doesn't like talking about Cole.]

I blew them off at first. But then Finch did me another solid even though I'd just turned him down, and then two different things we were working on separately ended up being the same thing, and...

[She shrugs.]

Just sort of happened.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Ah. She got burned, then. Carver watches her silently, considering the information she shares. It's not the whole picture, but of course she wouldn't trust him with that.

Even so, it speaks to the team dynamic. There's trust there. Not like the Reapers, but it's more than most mercs expend on their contracts. ]

And the people you help? How'd you find them? Pick a number out of a phone book?

[cactusy]

It's New York City. You think it's hard to find bad guys and people in trouble?

[Technically true! But also not.]