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]

[It's a very her sort of answer, and she exhales in relief when she realizes that she's not going to be expected to provide comfort. If she had to be stuck wandering a maze with someone, she really could have done a lot worse.]

Finch's tactics are basically trial and error dressed up with the word algorithm. Hope you're feeling patient.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Well. At least that gives him some kind of answer. ]

I can be patient.

[ It's not his strong suit. ]

How're his tactics?

[cactusy]

Depends. He's not military, but he is a genius. And he was a little freaked out by me joking about starving to death, so he's on high alert to send us backup.

[They reach an intersection that they've visited before, and she pauses to let Carver make the appropriate marks, then turns to double back.]

Guess he's committed to not firing me after all.

[fortitudosalutis]

The stakes are pretty low. He's not sacrificing anything to expend resources now.

[ It's a cold calculation. He makes the mark and then falls back in line next to Shaw. ]

He gonna have your back when the shooting starts?

[ This is a given. The world always turns violent. ]

[cactusy]

He doesn't carry weapons.

[Ever. Shaw can't picture him so much as touching a gun, let alone using one, and though they've never specifically talked about it, she's pretty sure they make him nervous.]

John will, though, even if he doesn't know me that well. What about you, anyone here got your back?

[fortitudosalutis]

That dog of his is a weapon.

[ It's not the same as a gun but walking around with that thing isn't a neutral act. Carver knows. His sister used to run with a war dog.

He eyes her for a moment, then exhales. There's Hal, maybe, but you can't count on officers to do anything if it doesn't directly benefit the mission. And he isn't a Reaper. ]

I watch my own back.

[ He has no one, now. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw smiles at the mention of Bear, faintly and fleetingly. It's true, of course, but--]

Don't tell him that.

I'm good at being on my own, too. But there's two of us down here right now, so - I'll watch yours if you watch mine, army grunt.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ There's some fondness between them, isn't there? Uncomfortably, Carver thinks of the easy banter he used to have with his own Shaw. How Leah would smile when he sassed her and forgave all his trespasses except maybe the last.

He looks away. They have to keep moving. ]

For now.

[ It's logical. She'll betray him when it's convenient. People always turn on each other. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw, in turn, interprets the for now slightly differently: rather than assuming he figures she'll turn on him, she assumes he's just warning her that he's not committing to a long-term alliance. It's a familiar stance.]

Sure, I'm not asking for a marriage proposal. Just a little help with that knife if we run into unfriendlies.

[fortitudosalutis]

I’ll watch your corners.

[ It’s not the same as loyalty. The commander would understand, Carver tells himself, even as an anxious part of him whispers: are you sure? Are you really fucking sure? Pope’s dead but his mandates live on, and Carver doesn’t know his mission. Not for certain.

You can only maintain a holding pattern for so long before something gives. ]

I’m good with the knife, [ he adds, because maybe that ought to be said. He hasn’t conducted himself well so far, keeps going on and on about sentimental bullshit. Telling her secrets like that doesn’t come at a cost. Pope would’ve demanded a reckoning for that one.

Carver’s fingers twitch. He tries to put that thought away. ]

[cactusy]

I saw the way you threw it at Sasquatch.

[She approves!]

I'm good with the gun. What about weaponless fighting? You do hand-to-hand okay?

[fortitudosalutis]

I was a doorkicker before.

[ First into the fray. It's a role he still plays. ]

I'm good, [ he adds, with a flat sort of honesty that goes beyond bragging or modesty. ]

[cactusy]

So we're gonna be jockeying for position instead of waiting for the other one to go first. Good to know.

[They reach another intersection, this one flooded with a half-inch of water. Great.]

If we run into anything, I call dibs on the front position; it's been too long since I've had a good firefight.

[It has, in fact, been about two weeks.]

[fortitudosalutis]

Fair enough.

[ He crouches down for a better look at the water, wondering how close they are to the river. It's easy to hide traps in water. ]

How many bullets you got?

[ It's asked casually. But the answer is important. He doesn't have a gun with him - she does. And the simple truth is there might come a time when Carver has to kill her for it. ]

[cactusy]

A full clip. Like I said, it's been a while.

[It really has not, Shaw. You have a problem. But she slows when he slows - not sure why he's studying the water, but not looking to leave him behind.]

You see something?

[fortitudosalutis]

Checking for tripwires. Hate water traps.

[ It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you. He stands up, rolling his shoulders. ]

Don't see any. Let's go.

[cactusy]

[Shaw doesn't scoff at the caution, but she has also never encountered a water trap in her life, even in the military, so the notion gets a look of faint surprise.]

Lot of guerrilla warfare going on after the world went to crap? Is civilization completely toast?

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He takes the lead this time, knife in hand. Ready for enemies in the corners. Sometimes, Carver reflects, he forgets that not everyone else has seen the world end. ]

World’s dead. People kill each other over what’s left. They get creative about it.

[cactusy]

Mm. The smartest, most creative fighters I ever encountered lived in mud huts. Sasquatch back there had nothing on them.

[fortitudosalutis]

Adapt or die.

[ Only the fighters are left now. Everyone else got wiped out, either eaten by the dead, starved, or slaughtered by someone just a little bit meaner or faster or just plain luckier. ]

Learning how to use a bow was a pain, [ he adds. ]

[cactusy]

Anyone pick up swords? I'm assuming anything that requires ammo is pretty much out.

[fortitudosalutis]

Swords break. Most people go for axes, or machetes.

[ He inclines his head slightly. ]

Spears are good against the dead. Keeps 'em from getting too close.

[cactusy]

Against the... what?

[Carver, honey, so far you have neglected to mention that the apocalypse happened because of zombies.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Oh. Yeah. There's that, he supposes. ]

Things got a little biblical back home. The dead got hungry.

[cactusy]

I must've missed the part of the Bible where Jesus ate people. Perils of not being sent to Sunday School.

[Shaw pauses, and then asks the question that would be a no-brainer at home; the question that, if asked genuinely, would immediately mark her as a gullible rube. Obviously, the only reasonable assumption here is that he's joking around, because zombies don't exist.

Neither do kidnapping Sasquatches, though.]

Seriously, are you pulling my leg?