MISSION 004 (part 1)

[etrayamods]

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⏴

Comments

[doctopoda]

[Otto follows, and stands as he's bid. The actuators twist around to keep an eye on the man's motions the entire time, mostly on their own initiative. They don't feel defensive or on-edge, so Otto allows it.]

Yes. I'd only been there a few weeks, though. This is just another sudden relocation.

[He's sure it would be more annoying if he'd had the chance to really settle in.]

[100more]

[ Hob hesitates as the limbs move about. But he's a professional! Or he is now, anyway, since he was never a trailor before. At least the shop has him doing tasks like this rather than any actual sewing. There are others who make the clothes. ]

It's the same with me. We must've arrived around the same time.

[ Hob pauses, as though he fears he might be bitten by a snake, then proceeds with futher measurements around the appendages. ]

I've never seen arms like yours before.

[doctopoda]

They won't bother you.

[Which is perhaps not the most comforting thing to say, given the level of autonomy it implies.]

They're my own inventions. Not exactly standard in my world either.

[100more]

Your inventions? Incredible.

[ To think someone could make something like that. There's nothing so advanced in Hob's world, as far as he knows. ]

So you're a scientist of sorts?

[ It feels like a good idea to keep the man talking while Hob measures his proportions. ]

[doctopoda]

Yes, I am. Though they've got me doing tech support here. Most of it is just telling people to turn their computers off and back on again.

[This is, of course, something he brings up mostly to avoid talking about his past work. It's - not that easy to discuss casually anymore.]

[100more]

[ Excuse him if he laughs a little. Ahem! It's just.. the way the man said 'tech support', as if it were entirely offensive. To a scientist who can make robot arms, it must be appalling, though. ]

I'm a tailor who can't sew. They're not very good at matching us into professions. Though I would understand if there's no need for me to teach Earth history in a place like this.

[ He hopes Otto will pardon him when Hob reaches around him with the measuring tape, since he has to get a measurement for his chest. ]

[doctopoda]

[Otto's not all that comfortable with it, but this is what happens when you get measured by a tailor. He'll deal.]

I don't see why not. There's a school here. Earth history might not interest anyone with no ties to Earth, but I can tell you that my housemates aren't enjoying the classes they have. Maybe employing actual teachers would help.

[He's not going to call them his kids, because they decidedly aren't.]

[100more]

[ Hob is quick about the work, at least, and takes the final measurement. ]

Perhaps you're right. It kind of feels like they drew our jobs out of a hat, doesn't it?

[ It's sort of funny, in a way. At least, Hob tries to see some humor in it. ]

On the bright side, the real tailors here are quite good. Maybe you should get some things to take back with you when we leave this world. Not like we're charging for it.

[doctopoda]

I hope to. I hadn't gotten to the point of worrying about that in Etraya yet.

[Not that he hadn't gotten more than the clothes on his back, of course, but he'd just gone on punching holes through them rather than look for a tailor's.]

As long as it's done before we leave - I got the impression that travel between here and there isn't common.

[100more]

They should be done in a couple of days. What sort did you want? Shirts? Jackets? Coats? All of the above? I know fashion is not really important given our circumstances in Etraya, but you might as well be comfortable.

[ Hob knows a few good garments has also done wonders for his own self and how he feels, too. ]

[doctopoda]

Shirts, yes...a coat would be nice. Maybe a longer one like this.

[Even now Otto's slightly more layered than the weather seems to really call for. It's fine and nothing to do with any past horrific electrical burns!]

[100more]

[ Hob takes a notepad out of his pocket and jots the details down. ]

I'm sure you'll look positively dashing. Everyone you know in Etraya will love it. Any particular colors?

[doctopoda]

[Otto snorts a little. That's very nice, but he only knows like...one teenaged Spider-Man. There's no one left to look nice for, much less anybody who might care what color he's in.

Rosie always -

Don't. It doesn't matter now.]

No, it doesn't matter.

[100more]

[ Doesn't matter. Hob looks hesitant. ]

I wouldn't leave it up to the tailor's, if I were you. They might use some peculiar patterns if you're not specific.

[doctopoda]

Oh - no, nothing like that.

[That brings him back a bit from wherever he went, just there.]

I don't know. Nothing too bright - black, maybe red or green?

[100more]

Sure, those are excellent choices.

[ Hob jots a few notes down. ]

It must be tough finding things that fit. Have you.. always had those?

[ The arms, obviously. Since they're mechanical, he probably wasn't born with them, right? ]

[doctopoda]

No.

[There’s a bit of a pause, before he adds somewhat hesitantly:]

It's been...I'm not sure exactly how long. But only a matter of months. This is the first I've tried to find new clothes.

[The dimensional travel confuses things, but Otto also doesn't even know what the date was when he left his timeline. He'd stopped thinking about things like that, or like finding clothing that fit him properly. He'd stopped thinking of most things.]

[100more]

[ Only some months? Perhaps he's still getting used to them, but he seems to operate them expertly. ]

An invention like that could change the world.

[ Hob says that like he already thinks Otto is a hero. ]

[doctopoda]

I suppose it could have...

[Otto's quiet for a moment. He hears the tone, and does not like it! Not Hob's fault, of course; no one here knows about everything that happened, not even really Peter.]

I'd hoped to put the technology to use in prosthetics, either myself or by handing it over to experts in that field. I've got an old friend who would have liked that.

[100more]

[ No doubt being stuck here derailed a lot of plans for him. ]

I'm sure you still can once you return home.

[doctopoda]

[No doubt......]

I guess we'll see. [ah, but let's not be grim] I'd already been dragged into another dimension before this, you know - then I ended up here when I tried to go back. Maybe I'll just end up somewhere else entirely.

[100more]

Really?

[ Is this more regular than Hob had thought? ]

I was told by a friend I was also in another dimension before this one, but I have no memory of it. Maybe this happens more often than I thought.

[doctopoda]

Really?

[That's surprising! Otto's told that story to a few people, but none of them have ever reported anything similar.]

Are they sure it was you? I met alternate versions of a few people I know, in the last universe. They didn't look the same, but I'm sure it could happen.

[100more]

They seem quite sure. And my friend is not the sort to be mistaken.

[ Hob has learned to trust Dream in all matters, even if it sounds impossible to him. If Dream says he was there, Hob doesn't think Dream is mistaken. Though it's strange he doesn't remember a life in another dimension. ]

[doctopoda]

Hm.

[Well, not like Otto knows any better about it.]

Maybe it's to do with the methods involved? [He shrugs, then glances down to make sure the movement isn't impeding Hob's work.] This was all the first proof anyone in my universe has had, about the reality of the multiverse, so I'm afraid anything I know outside of my own experience is purely theoretical. But the wizard didn't seem to think our memories would be affected.

[Probably wouldn't have made such a fuss if they'd just forget it all anyway.]