etrayalogs | MISSION 004 (part 1)

MISSION 004 (part 1)

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: July 19th-July 27th.
WHERE: Moorecroft Village
WHAT: Enjoy life in your new suburban neighborhood!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential death.

⏵ welcome home ⏴
Welcome to Moorecroft Village, where the sun casts a gentle glow through soft white clouds. Pavement paths wind around the village, adorned with wildflowers in every hue. Birds sing a soothing melody, while a few content cats lounge in sunspots or on benches along the streets. Cars hum by, ferrying residents to work, the store, or back home after a busy day.

It looks almost perfect. The ideal little village, occupied by individuals from all over. Orcs, elves, faeries, werewolves, vampires, and dhampirs coexist harmoniously, each contributing to their quaint little town. Despite their varied backgrounds, they appear to embrace this place as their own. They take their baby carriages out during the day for a stroll, chatting with friends and neighbors about current happenings, discussing their most recent mission (a ‘game’ of Whodunit, in which one of theirs, Theo, was tasked with killing one of their own each day and they all had to figure out who had killed them before they could come back to life) and the difficulties therein, new job assignments, weird things the teens in their houses are getting up to... generic, neighborly conversations.

The village is full of life. There are numerous facilities to wander and things to do! The library houses a vast collection of books spanning history from countless other worlds and whimsical children's tales. Teens gather at the ice skating rink, while the movie theater screens films spanning generations. An aquarium full of wonders: glowing rainbow fish, miniature great white sharks, a colorful octopus with patterns running over it that almost look like ivy, and numerous others.

In the daytime, everyone can explore clothing stores, indulge in gourmet cakes from the grocers, and partake in leisurely pursuits without financial concerns; just like on Etraya, money does not exist here.

⏵ help wanted ⏴
Moorecroft surpasses Etraya in its development, offering attractions and activities to engage its inhabitants throughout the day. But with these advancements come additional responsibilities. By day, at least one adult from every household is expected to fulfill their shifts at 'day jobs', lasting anywhere from four to eight hours. Meanwhile, the youth are expected to go to school, absorbing knowledge in various disciplines.

Each job duty requires different skillsets, but whether or not those required skillsets are matched to those who are expected to work them... well. They’ll have plenty of time for training, won’t they? Or perhaps they’ll get dropped right into their job and be expected to figure it out all on their own.

For the younger residents, education is structured into two main institutions: "Sandalwood Lower" for those twelve and under, and "Maplewood Upper" for older students. These schools offer a broad curriculum encompassing Language Arts, Mathematics, Science, Physical Education, Technology, Fine Arts, and a diverse array of Foreign Languages. Electives range widely, from specific sports to Survival Training, Creative Writing, Journalism, and Sociology.

At lunchtime, the school cafeteria presents an array of choices. Options range from standard fare like school pizza to other offerings such as vampire's blood, brains, and hearts—just in case an unexpected guest should drop in. After all, one never knows who might show up in Moorecroft.

⏵ honey do's ⏴
But life extends beyond work and school. A structured routine of what is expected of each household is kept on digital calendars, and installed on the wall in the kitchen of each house. These calendars update daily with smaller tasks, and weekly with larger ones, detailing what is expected of those residing within its walls.

Typical tasks include simple activities such as:

Take the child(ren) for a walk outdoors.
Visit the local park.
Bake a pie for the neighbors.
Tell your spouse(s) how important they are to you.
Share a secret.
Shop with your child(ren).
Mow the lawn.
Don’t forget to attend your child’s school’s PTA meeting!
Help with homework.
Take family photos.
Go on a date.

More complex tasks are found under weekly checklists, and may involve:

Host a neighborhood barbeque competition.
Volunteer at the hospital.
Teach your child a sport.
Start a soccer league.
Create a garage band.
Get a part time job.
Join a club.

Eos will check off each task as it is completed. At the bottom of each calendar, a tally records the completion of tasks, providing a visual measure of productivity and community involvement.

⏵ night watch ⏴
As the sun lowers over the horizon, everything shifts. Every long-term resident understands the consequences of curfew and the threats within. They retreat to their homes, urging those unfamiliar to them who may not understand the rules just yet that they, too, need to return indoors for the night.

Within the confines of their houses, life continues under a fragile veil of normalcy. A peek into some of the homes of long-term residents will find them playing board games with their family units, completing homework or work assignments they were unable to finish during the day, watching a few family-friendly shows on their couches, or enjoying a late dinner. Eventually, they’ll return to their beds and wait for the sound of their alarms.

In Moorecroft, no friendly companion bots roam the streets during the day. In their place, highly advanced robots emerge to enforce curfew once the time comes. They silently make their way through the streets, sweeping away anything that isn’t part of Eos’ design: trash left out on the street, bugs left by suspicious men wearing cowls that have ears on them, graffiti, new decor that Eos decides she doesn’t like. No winds shake the trees, there are no cars on the road, but noises can be heard coming from outside that don't sound... normal by any means. Croaks, whispers, scratches against doors and walls alike.

Those who defy curfew will be asked, once, to return to their homes. If they opt not to listen, they are met with force: physically restrained, subdued, and dragged back to their homes. If they decide to fight, the bots are not above killing them and dropping their limp bodies just inside the front door of their houses. They will revive after 48 hours but not without cost. Each return carries an absence—a missing memory, a lost skill, or a fragment of their very essence, stolen away in the process of their revival.

Even those who manage to evade capture will awaken in their beds with no recollection of their death or what they may have witnessed before dying. They will instead have a vague feeling that something horrifying happened.

⏵ NOTES ⏴

Daily and weekly tasks can be chosen by players! We won't be listing these out for each household, but relying on players to choose what's most fun for them to play with within their households.

As noted on Mission Plotting, we're open to one group successfully staying out past curfew, but would like to keep this to one thread.

We have a separate log for NPC interactions for this mission!

For any questions relating to the contents of this log, mod queries thread on the initial plotting post to assist us in keeping all mission-related information in one place. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.
⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

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[Barnabas audibly draws in a slow and measured breath. For a long moment it seems as if Barnabas will allow Cid to continue without comment. However that is short lived as he answers him.]

Very well, do as you please.

[It is not as if bathing between men is so strange, and if Cid was choosing to be stubborn then Barnabas could not care to argue this point any further with him. Turning off the water, he then steps into the bath, settling into it as he likewise settles into ignoring Cid.]

[Cid washes his hands. He really could always do a better job. Oh well. He dries his hands on Barnabas’ towel, leaving a big smudge.]

…I’ll be back. [Hopefully he could deal with the kids and then deal with his own checklist. This was such a pain in the ass, but what choice did he have? He redresses in fresh clothes over his sweaty body, sighing as he goes.]

[He looks at the list. Microwaving those meals apparently counted- so why hadn’t that kiss? It was all that was left of the daily tasks at this point. Cid takes a smoke break before heading back upstairs with a beer. He drops himself into bed and turns on the television to some sports rerun.]

[The bath doesn't help Barnabas relax, but that is mostly because he is in a constant state of forced calm. The routine of washing himself at least keeps him physically busy, even if that does not still his mind. Despite he becalmed heart, he can feel some of those accursed emotions begin to surface when Cidolfus is around. It is maddening, but that was how it always was, wasn't it? Even after he gave himself to his Lord, around Sleipnir and Cidolfus he could feel some measure of something. Nothing near as potent when he laid his eyes upon her, and yet they did not get swallowed whole by the yawning chasm that filled him otherwise.

The ache of regret tightened his otherwise steady heart, the stab of loss twisting within it, and every other complicated emotion that those gentle waters were meant to smother and obliterate would surface from the wound it created.

His failure to be made fully pure, his inability to shed every attachment, to shake loose the remaining chains which tried to bind him. Perhaps here he might—

Barnabas' thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the TV in their shared room, a clamorous reminder of Cid's unwelcome presence and the burden he continues to prove himself to be. Finishing up with his bath since he is not one to luxuriate in such things, he drains the water and reaches for his towel—only to see the smear that Cid has left upon it.

His eyes narrow and his mouth thins into a tight line. Still, he grabs it, making sure the smear is away from him as he dries off and eventually emerges from the bathroom. Though the towel is not around his waist when he does so, thinking nothing of his nudity as he makes his way to his dresser. Crossing in front of the TV to do so. Wordlessly finding clothes to wear while ignoring Cid outright.]

[Why must this place torture him so? Whoever was in charge must find themselves very funny. All of this was the last thing he wanted to do, but he’s aware that it’s a test. So why wouldn’t it be this? He would have no problem kissing Ororo, or nearly anyone else. But with Barnabas, it was difficult and unpleasant.]

[Cid watches the action, though he does not yet know all the rules. Still, something about it captivates him. He sips his beer, allowing it to fuzz his mind. He rearranges his legs to splay apart, laying with absolutely no dignity on the bed. He rearranges his nuts without thinking about it, eyes glued to the screen as Barnabas dresses.]

[Honestly, Cid is just grateful that he’s redressing. He’s seen Barnabas undressed a million times in platonic contexts. He refuses to think about it any further. Cid lays in the bed, still sweaty and stinking from the day. His eyes stay on the television.]

Hey.

There’s only one thing left to do on the list.

Let’s get it over with.

Edited 2024-07-20 07:53 (UTC)

Truly your persuasive talents are without equal.

[Barnabas speaks in monotone as he buttons his pants closed. He doesn't spare him a glance as he puts a shirt on next.]

You know well how to sell to a man with no interest in purchasing your wares.

...So you can mow unnecessary lawns, but fuck me for trying to finish the household tasks?

[He sighs as he sits up and finally looks squarely at the other man. ]

I'm sorry, did you want me to seduce you?

[Slowly Barnabas turns his head to look at Cid. His stare withering in its muted scowl.]

Complete the task.

[There is the slightest edge to his tone as he speaks, which is anything but slight for a man like Barnabas. Always so measured and composed, even if a bit moody. This speaks of something a touch deeper than that surface level dourness.]

You look like you’re going to break my jaw if I do. And let me be clear, I would really prefer if you didn’t, thank you.

[Cid stands, barefoot on the rug in their room as he takes a breath. Just get it over with. He unconsciously licks his lips as he gets closer, his heart thrumming with the anxiety and the strangeness of the task. This close, surely Barnabas can smell him. Oil, tobacco, his natural musk, and beer on his breath as soon as he’s close enough to do what he means to.]

[Barnabas really did cut an intimidating figure, taller than him and broader besides. Cid tilts his head up, pressing up slightly on his toes to press his lips to Barnabas’. He’s hesitant to break it too soon- In case it’s not good enough. He’s meant to kiss Barnabas like a spouse, right?]

[Like he means it, then.]

[He deepens the kiss.]

[If there was ever a test, this is it.

No, that isn't true, there was certainly worse he has endured, worse he has had to swallow than the kiss of a man who is the keeper of complicated and unresolved emotions in his chest that just won't die, even as the man had. Even as he bled out, selfishly savoring the last taste of his cherished cigar, indulging in this wretched life they've been made to endure even till the very last. As his candle snuffed out in its grim finality, Barnabas' continued on, a burden as everything else.

Yet it is not Cid's indulgence in death which is captured between his lips in this moment, but Barnabas' own while they are both very much alive. A wicked twist of iront's knife, that. A fact becoming intolerable in its objectivity as Cid chooses not to break the kiss, but deepen it.

For Barnabas' part, he has not returned the kiss, allowing Cid to kiss him as if he were kissing a particularly soft and warm statue. And while Barnabas nearly removes him when he feels his mouth becoming more dedicated to the task, he realizes to his chagrin that if this does not count because of his own insubordination, they will need to do this again.

Thus does Barnabas return the kiss, matching Cid's performative fervor, a hand settling at the base of Cid's head as he does this, his eyes closing as he simply allows himself to mentally slip away from the moment. Focusing more on the mechanics of the task, and thinking less about who is involved. Supressing himself as he has done countless times before.

Then, once he is certain it should count, he uses that hand cupping the back of Cid's head to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him back.]

Satisfied?

[He's a little breathless as he uses a single word to clearly pin this on Cidolfus.]

[Cid does his best to quiet his mind, cast it elsewhere, but that’s impossible, isn’t it? Even with his eyes closed, it’s unmistakably him. His mind weakly suggests that he think of Clive instead, but that’s almost worse. About the time he’s going to finish it, he feels Barnabas kiss back. Cid’s heart pounds in his chest, and he’s really about to break it off right as-]

[Cid hisses as Barnabas pulls him back after that frankly overkill of a kiss.]

Why are you acting like this was my idea? Or my desire?

[He ducks out of his hold to make his way to the door.]

I’m gonna go check the thing. [He announces superfluously before heading downstairs.]

[He lets out a cheer, heading back up with a grin.]

Now I am. [Cid moves breezily past Barnabas to flop into bed. Finishing those tasks only made him anxious to know what tomorrow would bring. He quiets his thoughts by chugging his beer.]

[Barnabas doesn't say anything as Cid goes to check the task list, instead choosing to sit in the light glow of the TV and its noise that just sounds like indistinguishable nonsense as he thinks about the moments prior. The feeling of Cid on his lips, the scent of him, and the resulting quickening of his heartbeat.

But as Cid returns he squashes the thoughts entirely.

Barnabas watches him for a silent moment as he downs his beer, turns his attention to the TV just as some team scores a point—wholly unfamiliar with the game as he is, it means nothing to him—he then crosses in front of the TV again to leave the room.]

Edited 2024-07-20 08:58 (UTC)

[Cid watches him leave, but makes no move to stop him. Why should he? They had been clashing all day, the guy should have a chance to cool off. He’d be back upstairs eventually. Cid tosses his beer bottle in the little trashcan in the bathroom and pads downstairs to get another. He could really get used to cold beer like this. He sticks another cigarette into his mouth and rethinks lighting it in the kitchen after last time.]

[He’d learned what a smoke alarm was then, yet was not confident in his nor his charges’ cooking enough to commit to disarming it.]

[He steps out onto the porch to smoke, trying to forget the feeling of Barnabas’ lips on his. The rest of the beers in the fridge should accomplish that. He sees Barnabas and sighs.]

Sorry. I’ll go to the other porch.

[Indeed, Barnabas had decided to stand out on the front porch to bask in the evening air and the quiet of the neighborhood winding down. The quiet was a cold comfort to him, but noise rarely proved itself anything more than a clamorous reminder of life and its eventual loss. For, regardless of how loud and overbearing a sound might be, it would eventually give way to the inevitable silence, for nothing was more certain than quietude at the end of everything.

Yet, as silence fills sound's absence, so does sound make room for itself in silence's bounty. Which is to say, Cid has found Barnabas and subsequently ruin his solitude. The irony of Cid being utterly inescapable when before their arrival here, Cid proved elusive and unwilling to return to him.

Fate's cruel sense of humor, really.]

Do not bother, your cigar is already lit.

[He does not pull his eyes from the skyline of houses before him, but he doesn't need to when he can smell the tobacco.]

[That it was. He takes a long draw of it and lets it out smoothly. He chases it with a few gulps of beer.]

… As you wish, your Majesty. [He doesn’t even mean to be an asshole, it’s just as much habit as it is offhand.]

[He gazes off into the same direction as Barnabas before his eyes inevitably slide over to him. He looks at his silhouette against the darkening sky, the handsome profile that he cuts. The dour look on his face.]

…Cheer up. It’s bound to get worse. We may as well enjoy it while it’s peaceful.

[Barnabas is so used to being referred to in such a way, he doesn't take it as an insult or some sarcastic quip. It's a title he bears, like Odin, or even his own name. Simply a form of an address.

He's only able to enjoy the quiet for a few moments before Cid speaks again. It was boun to happen, Cid's eyes were lingering on him, but that aside, Cid never knew when to stay silent.]

I shall leave that to you. I will face our trials with the solemnity they deserve.

[After all, this impacts their chances of saving their world. Regardless of the how ridiculous or inane the demand.]

Edited 2024-07-20 09:47 (UTC)

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MISSION 004 (part 1)

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