etrayalogs | FEBRUARY MINGLE

Entry tags:

FEBRUARY MINGLE

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: February 14th - March
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, a mini mission, and some new city features!
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.

In the hospital's lobby are several party tables set out with miscellaneous baked goods: croissants, cookies, breads, cake slices, as well as tea and coffee to accompany them - or hot chocolate, for those who are opposed to the other offerings.

Outside the hospital, the last remnants of snow are melting in the sunlight as the weather begins to warm up. It's still chilly enough one might want to put on a coat, but not so cold a jacket is necessary for wandering around without freezing off one's fingers.

We hope you enjoy your stay.

⏵ heroes return ⏴

As the Quantum Rail train glides to a halt, returning passengers step out onto familiar ground - the train station, right where they had initially begun their mission. When exiting the station, their earpieces vibrate, indicating the automatic download of a detailed map which highlights key locations, transit paths, and notable landmarks. As Aurora promised, she had been working on a few renovations around Etraya! A sleek trolley system now winds through Etraya, following clearly marked pathways through the city bubble to make travel across the city smoother. However, the trolley only moves one way, eternally following the loop Aurora has set it on. And because of this, it takes six hours to complete it's loop all the way around. Don't miss your stop!

Pets and animals have been returned to their usual preferred areas, some awaiting the arrival of their owners, and others keeping to themselves in the forested areas throughout Etraya.

Beyond the small upgrades, things seem relatively unchanged - until one familiar sign catches the eye. One marked by four vertical lines, methodically crossed out one by one: the final slash has now been drawn through. The tally is complete. What it indicates has yet to be made clear, but it has to mean something, right? No one would go through the effort of making an ominous-sounding sign without following through.

⏵ love in the air ⏴

This Valentines Day, Aurora and the companion bots have opted to try something a little different: they have scattered mystery valentines across the city. Hidden within mailboxes, tucked into cafe menus, slipped under doors, on the outside of high windows for those wall-crawlers to spot. There are countless of these little slips of papers, strewn throughout the city. And within each valentine, is a challenge or gesture to complete. Please feel free to make these up yourselves as long as they fit in with the theme!

Some examples include:

Deliver a flower to a stranger.
Write a heartfelt poem for someone.
Share a box of chocolates!
Confess your feelings for another.
Play matchmaker for two people - this can be platonic, or romantic!
Gift a friend with a stuffed animal.
Give five different people a genuine compliment.

While not mandatory, completing five tasks will earn an individual an additional ten points to use towards anything they would like!

Each little Valentine is signed "Your Secret Admirer. ♡", and some of them may even be addressed to specific individuals. Don't be surprised, Eddie, if you see one or two that are specifically addressed to you lurking around your collection of chicken friends!

And while most of these are harmless, some of the valentines cards come with effects for those who come into contact with the paper. Perhaps they thought it was a piece of garbage, or were just kicking it out of the way rather than intending on taking part. It doesn't matter! They get to join in on the fun, too.

Heart Eyes - your pupils literally turn into hearts for a few hours, making it hard to focus on anything other than things (or people) you find attractive.
Love-Struck Stammer - You can only speak in poetic compliments or romantic declarations, regardless of whom you're speaking to.
Chocolate Bliss - Everything feels good. Simple. Easy. As if there's nothing in the world to concern yourself with. You feel happy, without any concerns or worry.
Rose-Tinted Vision - everything looks soft and romantic, as if you're in a romance novel. You know the ones.
Magnetic Attraction - regardless of what you had been doing, you suddenly find yourself unable to leave the side of the person closest to you. Had you been eating chocolates while walking down the street? Well, have fun getting stuck to the guy who'd been out for a jog!
Serenade Syndrome - you find it impossible to resist the urge to sing your words, turning all conversations into love ballads.
Heartstrings - A thread appears, connecting you to someone close by who you share many similarities too. Perhaps you had never met this person before, but the threads tied around your pinky fingers that refuse to let go until you allow yourself to open up to them clearly means you should be a little more familiar with them.

Love is in the air—or maybe just a bit of well-intended chaos! 💕

⏵ NOTES ⏴

Welcome back from the mission, and welcome to Etraya for our newcomers! We've tried to keep this log simple for an easy introduction, as well as some downtime for our mission-goers who worked hard to solve the Quantum Rail mystery.

There is something else going on, but. . . well, no one seems to know what! The computer that had been on the lower floor of the hospital is now missing, and Aurora may seem a little flustered as she flits around Etraya, in search of something.

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

[ It doesn't matter that it doesn't last, John won't forget it. That's enough. ]

It has a port wine cherry sauce. Green beans, broccoli, or brussels sprouts?

Brussels sprouts.

[Immediate answer; no question. She turns to lean against a lamppost, crumpling the paper Valentine in her hand.]

I can cook stuff, too. I could make, I dunno, soup.

[ Brussels sprouts it is. ]

Another time. Recipe says it serves 6 to 8 and we already have a vegetable. You said you make a good onion soup.

[ He remembers. ]

Yeah. It's called eshkeneh.

[She idly digs her heel into the ground, picking at the bandage on her shoulder. She's been doing okay since their return from the train - the sprained leg hadn't turned out to be a bad sprain - but she's still having to change the bandages on the stab wound a few times a day.]

We didn't do stuff like this in the future. I heard there was a picnic in the park once, but I missed it.

[ It's still weird to hear about "the future". What is it like? What are they like? How have they changed? For all that John does his best to keep things the same, it's impossible. Time here in Etraya has shown him that. It's simply impossible.

But there's one question that's been nagging him, one question that burns. He suddenly drops his smile, his good mood. Now is as good a time as any to ask, away from Harold's ears. ]

I have a question for you about the future.

[Shaw pauses, which is the only outward sign of surprise that she shows. There are a million different possibilities of things that he might ask about, a solid half of which she doesn't want to talk about at all, but... it's his future. If he wants to know, whatever he wants to know, he deserves to hear it.]

Sure.

[She says, eyes on the ground.]

Fire away.

[ John doesn't really want to be having this conversation either, but he has to know. ]

Is Harold alive? Is he safe?

[ That's all he wants to know. If she gives him a yes or no answer he'll be satisfied. He just... he has to know about Harold. He has to know. ]

I don't know.

[The most unsatisfying answer of all: sorry, John.]

I haven't heard from him. But, you know. That could mean anything.

[ That's... not the worst answer he could get. The worst would be confirmation that something happened to Harold. No, it's not what he was hoping for, but really, it could mean anything. ]

Was I with him?

[ That's a clue to this puzzle. ]

Maybe. We split up; went off to work on separate tasks. That doesn't mean you didn't meet back up with him later.

[There's a beat before she elaborates.]

I haven't heard from you either, John. There's been a lot of radio silence.

[ Honestly John doesn't give a shit what happens to himself. Harold is all that matters. What circumstances would bring him away from Harold's side? What would have happened to make Harold disappear? That's the thing: Harold is good at disappearing. He's done it before, who's to say he didn't do it again? But why? Why would he do such a thing?

John has to believe that if Shaw hasn't heard from either of them, it either means he died for Harold or Harold has asked for his silence. He can see the scene, suddenly; their final stand, him being unable to protect Harold, doing everything with his final breath to try to keep Harold safe. It's an ugly thought and he can't help but hunch his shoulders a bit, as if warding off the February chill. ]

Thanks, Shaw.

[She knows it's not the answer he would have liked to hear. It's sure as hell not the answer she wanted to give him, or the experience she wanted to live through. But it is what it is. She doesn't regret not sugarcoating it. She only regrets that the only person he could get his answers from was someone like her.

But then again, this is John. Even if she were someone with the emotional chops to provide comfort, would he even want it?

She scuffs her shoe against the ground again, remembering her conversation with Carver that first night on the train. Remembering the realization that sometimes, not having adequate comforting words is a good thing - because when nothing anyone could say would be enough to make a situation better, it's annoying when people try anyway.]

It sucks.

[She says, crossing her arms over her chest.]

You know who's still around, though? Fusco. His kid, too. They're okay.

[ Would John have wanted comfort? There's no comfort that could balm the pain of imagining a world without Harold. John has already decided long ago that he won't live in that world. There's no words that could be said to change his mind, to make it any more livable. He's certain that won't change in the future.

Her comment about Fusco surprised him, a bit. Fusco? Really? Sure, he's not all that bad these days, John mostly gives him shit out of habit, but Fusco? Why not Carter? ...And then the icy realization hits him that Carter probably also isn't there anymore. He can't imagine that. There are two good people in the world: Harold Finch and Joss Carter. Two people, principled beyond doubt, who systematically make the world a better place just by being in it. It's an acute pain to know that Shaw's omission means she's gone. And yet Fusco is still around. It's not fair to begrudge Fusco for living while Carter is dead, she wouldn't want their lives compared that way, but he does all the same. How can anyone live up to what Carter does, day in and day out? What about her son?

His silence is a beat too long and there's a slightly bitter edge to his voice he can't shake when he does speak. ]

Really? Good for him.

[Shaw knows she fucked up by his reaction, subtle as it is, but she can only guess as to why. Had he not liked Fusco back then? He hadn't liked Root, she knows that for sure, but Fusco has been an asset since before she came onboard. If there was bad history, she didn't know about it; if there was social friction, she hadn't noticed. Hadn't paid attention, more likely.]

Yeah. Well.

[Scuff, scuff, scuff.]

[ He needs to get off this topic. This is why he didn't want to know, why he should have held his questions, why he shouldn't have asked. Maybe there's good things in the future, but right now he's not seeing them. His own sure death is inconsequential in knowing that Carter is almost certainly dead and Harold is at the very least missing. He has to shake this off, push it from his mind for the moment. ]

How's your shoulder?

[ A safer topic, a strategic shift in conversation. The bitterness is gone but there's still something in the set of his shoulders that shows he's going to carry this knowledge with him for a long time. ]

More busted than the leg, but it's fine.

[She touches the edge of the bandage, just visible under the cuff of her sleeve. Topic change. Sure. This is better, and she can most certainly roll with it.]

Gotta say, I'd rather be back on that train than here.

[ That catches him off guard. Shaw was in the dregs, wasn't she? ]

Why? Did you like Harold and I smuggling you food that much?

[ The train was a nice change in scenery, and he certainly enjoyed exploding the carriage door, but even as a neon things were getting a little to crammed. He's more comfortable back in Etraya, thought he didn't think he'd ever say those words. He went back to the library when they returned and felt a certain sort of weight lift from his shoulders. ]

We had a mission, and clear objectives. There was more to do.

[That's the bulk of her reasoning. But also--]

You have any of the Elite food? It was way better than the stuff we can get here.

[ Of course, it's the food. Shaw liked the food. He gets the other part, too. Having a purpose again, a mission. Now they're back to nothing, just left to aimlessly wander about and fulfill valentines cards. There's something to be said for how busy he was kept on the train. ]

No, but I'm glad you did. [ He looks away, breaking eye contact. ] It was nice, having something to do. [ He doesn't really talk about this, though he knows Harold sees it in him. Sees how untethered he is here, how restless. ] But it was also nice to sleep in my own bed.

Does it actual feel like yours?

[It's an honest question, not a rhetorical one, and there's no hint of snark or judgement, either. She certainly doesn't have complaints about the library, or the space they've provided for her. But it doesn't feel like home.]

[ He has to think on that. He can tell it's an honest question and he feels like it deserves an honest answer. Does it feel like his? Has anywhere he's slept in the past ten years felt like his? Even the loft Harold gave him doesn't really feel like home, in a way. It's nice, it's a good place to lay his head, he feels comfortable there, but he feels temporary in it, in some way.

Living in the library is different. Even before arriving in Etraya the library had felt like a place he belonged. There was always a comfort in arriving and having Harold look at him and say "good morning, Mr. Reese" and the soft whirring of his computers and the clacking of the keyboard. Now he lives there, with Harold, and they have dinner together and don't talk all that much sometimes, and especially at first there was an awkwardness to it. But it's familiar and comfortable as he walks through the shelves, cares for the building, goes back in their shared living space and there's Harold again at his workstation. ]

Yes.

[Shaw grounds the back of her head against the lamppost she's leaning on, shoving her hands into her pockets.]

Does it feel real?

[ This isn't the first time Shaw has asked something to this effect. Is this another future thing? Either way, he has an easy answer. ]

Yes. Why? Does it for you?

We're on some weird-ass alien planet that's being fully managed by an AI, and impossible things happen pretty much every day. That sound real to you?

[ Well, she has a point. All these things are wildly inconceivable. Before arriving in Etraya he would have blown such a thing off as a delusion if anyone had told him. But it feels real. And even if it's not real... in some twisted way he has what he's always wanted. Waking up, seeing Harold first thing in the morning. Making dinner for Harold. Doing all these stupid little things with Harold that add up to some sort of life he craves, even if he'll never let on. Even if Harold doesn't realize that John has slept better in years now that he's safe in the library, now that he knows Harold is just in the other room. It doesn't stop all the nightmares or the restless nights where he can't fall asleep, but they're markedly less.

If he knew it wasn't real, he would give it up. He would. But he does want it to be real. And more practically— ]

And what if it is? What if we really are trying to save our world? Can you give up on that chance?

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