etrayalogs | 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⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( y.....eah, nothing about those assurances managed to inspire even a hint of confidence.

but on the other hand, nothing about the idea that this planet, this city, this mission seemingly dumped a baby on an unsuspecting young adult seems to shock clarke either. she'd ended up with a more traditional arrangement — an age appropriate single parent, two "children" close in age, two cars in the two-car garage, a school schedule, and chores. it'll be something to chew on considering she'd clocked fabian to be around her age and it's interesting to consider the different roles they've each been tasked with.

that's a thought for a later time, though. right now clarke's settling back onto the balls of her feet, her gaze refocusing on fabian's face rather than trying to see past him into the bowels of his provided home. she tilts her head, and manages to press her lips into an impassive line, but there's no completely hiding the pinch of concern that digs rivulets between her eyebrows. a beat of appraising silence, then a very stiff nod. )

Of course. Everything's fine.

( that's a tried and true sentiment, one that clarke always has ready on the tip of her tongue in any given situation. hypocrisy comes in her continual expectation that others would just accept her dismissals, while simultaneously feeling the urge to dig in and pry when faced with the same tactic.

clarke crowds in towards the gap he'd opened, close enough that if fabian were to try to close the door she'd probably be able to stick her foot in. but the urge to just bust in is curbed, instead she just drops her voice to a low, earnest level. )

But I wasn't complaining about the crying. I just wanted to — do you need help?

[ Clarke definitely gets to see Fabian's reaction change in real time. Because-- yes, at first he looks kind of annoyed at her dismissing his words. He kind of looks like he's about to roll his eye, really.

But when she gets a little closer, and when she suddenly moves on to that question.. that's when the boy's expression changes. Suddenly he doesn't look so offended anymore. Instead the offer of help seems to make him look a little surprised, eye wide and staring at her, before it shifts to something that almost seems more flustered, or ashamed.

It's not entirely unlike their situation back in the maze, except reversed. Clarke who had looked so conflicted about Fabian's genuine offer of help - and this time he seems to be the one looking conflicted.

He still doesn't open the door further. ]

Why--

[ He clearly isn't as good as she is at this.

.. which is saying something, because even Fabian caught on to the fact that Clarke was being weird about this last time around. But Fabian is somehow even more obvious, looking so obviously like he's not doing well, and yet he asks: ]

Why would I need help? [ He's trying so hard to sound tough.

And yet-- The question isn't an outright rejection of her offer. If anything, there's almost something desperate in his tone, like he's begging her to see through it. To see that he does need help, even if he desperately does not want to admit to it. ]

Because a majority of these missions have, in some convoluted way, been based around helping each other?

( don't mistake, clarke still aggressively distrusts every single monotone syllable that comes out of aurora's mouth and city-wide messages, but the a.i.'s at least been consistent with her message. in hindsight, the first mission was about caring enough for a person to put a different version of them out of their misery. the second was about doing what you could for another person while both in dire straits. the third... she's still not managed to figure out the logic behind the plushies; behind offering them comfort that others would try to rip away, just to have that comfort item turn on the owner in record time and need to be dispatched by the same individuals they'd all tried to avoid in the beginning. but it'll come in time. and right now?

this city is clean and well maintained. it seems to run off a utilitarian internal clock that is oddly familiar despite the backdrop looking like something out of a textbook about the old world. the monsters only come out at night, and for those instances they are locked away from it. what else would be the point here?

and even if that wasn't it, the sunken, cored out nature of fabian's eye? the little bit of his sallowed out face she can see through the crack in the door? the quiet undertone of his voice that tries for tough but rings hollow? clarke had been the one to approach his front door, and something deep in her guts twist with preemptive regret were she to just turn around and leave him like this. there's two types of drowning someone can experience; the physical and the metaphysical. and a life jacket cannot be clamped around ones ears and expected to muffle the admittedly grating screeches she can hear emulating from deeper within the house. )

And I know new parents need it the most.

( she'd been at her mothers elbow for enough rotations through the medbay to see how life simply drained out of new parents those first few months. fabian hadn't slammed the door in her face yet, and thus clarke takes the faint hint of allowance and brings a hand up to rest against the freshly painted front door. she doesn't shove against it, but pins him with the earnest full attention of sky blue irises. there again is a showcase of her hypocrisy, unable to freely accept help from others, but equally insistent they accept hers. )

Have you even slept since we got here?

[ He stares at her.

It feels like her icy blue eyes are piercing right through him. Like they're seeing something that he doesn't want her to see, like they're witnessing a part of him that he's so desperately trying to tuck away in this moment. Fabian manages to hold her gaze for a moment, not opening the door further, but also not pushing back against her hand on it.

Instead he just stares, until.. it's like Fabian deflates. Like he lets go of some last desperate attempt to cover up everything here. It leaves him looking even more tired - which might make sense, in the light of her question - and also kind of.. hurt. Weirdly hurt. After all, she had been angry at him over the entire sirens thing, but back then the young man had just argued right back at her.

Now he doesn't. He just looks like there's a part of him that's in pain, and judging by the way his mouth moves so feebly, he can't quite explain it either. ]

.. Not that much. [ He mumbles. ]

Slowly but surely he opens the door further. Far enough that she could walk inside if she wanted to - but also far enough to make the state of the house visible. It's not just the baby crying somewhere deeper inside the house that's obvious, but the place is also.. filthy. It's filthy in the way a place would be if someone lived there who didn't have the time or the knowledge to clean the place up. There's trash lingering around, like it was hastily discarded, and there's a mysterious substance on some of the walls.

And on Fabian's shirt, actually, which is now also visible with the door open. ]

Look, I--

[ It's like a last attempt at defense.

But rather than intimidation, or anything else tough, it just sounds desperate. Like a plea. ]

Just don't judge me.

[ He doesn't sound like he could take that right now. Fabian looks so utterly tired, and beyond that, weirdly crushed. ]

MISSION 004 (part 1)

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