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⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nah. I've met a zombie. Trust me, it would be obvious. You'd be all...murdery. And grey.

[ And a real pain in the ass to deal with. Using Sam as bait had been kinda funny, though. ]

I am kinda murdery.

[ He got that before being killed though, so maybe it doesn't count. ]

...Okay, same, so I'm not really making a good case for us not being zombies.

[ Angela wanted revenge but what if she'd gotten it then left? Just...killing spree? Hm. ]

Well. I have a pulse. [ let him double check. ] How about that? Got one of those?

Yeah, unfortunately. It'd be way cooler not to.

[ It'd be so much easier to not think about any of what happened before he showed up here if he were different in some way. ]

I'm just some kid with shit luck.

You sure you're just not a younger version of me?

[ His laugh is wry, hands in his pockets as they head towards the address on the little paper Dean's shoved in his pocket. ]

Paired us up well, I guess. Thing One and Thing Two, at your service.

Shit, for your sake I hope not.

[ He's curious now though. It'd be nice to know there's coming back from the shit he's been through, but he's known Dean for all of five minutes, it'd be rude to ask. ]

There's a Thing Two?

[ He hopes it's not a woman. He can handle a fake dad, but if he gets a fake mom too he'll probably freak out. ]

Thing Two is...

[ He'd seen the name and laughed because, like. Of course he's the stepford mom in this situation. And of course Cas was he working Dad. ]

Thing Two is an angel of the Lord, but he's just a big old softie. He won't bug you too much.

An angel of the Lord? Literally?

[ Dean, you can't say that to a guilt-ridden kid. ]

Yeah. He's not judgy though, trust me.

[ He pauses. ]

Well, he used to be kinda bitchy, back when I first met him. But he's grown up a lot, made his own mistakes. He's just a baby in a trenchcoat, really. Don't let him fool you.

Edited 2024-08-11 22:54 (UTC)

Does he have the all-knowing thing?

[ He can't meet an all-knowing angel, that's how you get pulverized. ]

Like, psychic or something? He's not God or anything if that's what you mean?

[ He can read minds but Cas stays out unless invited these days. He's a good boy. ]

I mean is he gonna know about my mortal sins or whatever.

[ While he's not religious himself he's familiar enough with the concept, plus it'd be stupid to deny the existence of angels when his last adult figure was a killer doll. So he's taking this fully at face value. ]

If there's a tree house in the yard, I can just sleep there.

Not unless you tell him.

[ He rubs a hand across his face. ]

Nah, no need for that. If Cas doesn't care about my mortal sins, he's not gonna care about yours. Trust me, I've...done plenty wrong. Mortally, sinfully wrong, if you wanna get technical.

Did you kill your dad?

[ If he's gonna be living with an angel for a month he might as well put it out there. Maybe fake suburbia has fake juvie or something. ]

Oh, we're going straight to the daddy issues, huh?

[ It's been...nine years, give or take, since John Winchester died. He sighs, slips his hands into his pockets. ]

Not directly. [ The guilt of it never left; it might be almost a decade, but the weight is still heavy on his soul. ] I was dying, he sold his soul to a demon to save my life. He went to hell, spent a year there. Except time moves different there, so it was more like a hundred. The four months I spent there was about forty.

[ He shrugs his shoulders. ]

Directly killed a lotta other things, though.

Oh.

[ Weirdly that does make him feel better. ]

I did kill mine directly. The murder doll made it sound like a great idea.

[ It's a bit more complicated than that, but that's not a dishonest way to summarize it. ]

[ ✨ trauma bonding ✨ ]

Hmm. [ He marinates on that, because it definitely sounds like shit he's encountered before. ] So was it like... a compulsion kinda deal?

His lover showed up to my mom's funeral, and then he was drunk and called her weak and Chucky kept telling me he was an untrustworthy liar, and he was right. I just snapped?

[ Junior doesn't have the vocabulary to explain he had loads and loads of unaddressed trauma and Chucky knew exactly how to take advantage. ]

I didn't feel bad or anything, except he tried to make me kill other people after and I didn't so he killed me.

[ This is a fine and normal conversation to be having. ]

Jesus.

[ Dean’s kinda sensing that. There’s a lotta unaddressed trauma in his own life he buried. Deep. He gets it. ]

Hope that little fucker is buried somewhere.

[ look, dean likes kids. And when serial killer possessed dolls mess with kids and convince them to do shit, it makes Dean want to do a murder. ]

I don't think he can die. I mean, I killed one, but there's more.

[ He shrugs, trying very hard to pretend this whole thing is fine and he's not at all bothered or upset. ]

Anyway, you can tell your angel friend. The missions are always kinda fucked up, we'll probably be forced to talk about it in some way.

More?

[ now more than ever he wishes Sam were here and they had a true arsenal in the bunker instead of friggin cosplay toys and tonka cars. ]

Anything can be killed. Except HH Holmes, but that’s only because we couldn’t get to his actual grave.

Yeah, getting me kill activated some voodoo power, let him split his soul into this army of identical dolls?

[ he doesn't understand the mechanics, he just got to see the army. ]

Who's HH Holmes?

[ that's more fun than talking about Chucky. Chucky sucks. ]

Well that's. Unfortunate.

[ All he wants to do is go to this kids home and kill some dolls. ]

He was considered America's first serial killer. He was, uh - pretty fucked up, to put it bluntly. [ doesn't know if the kid wants the gory details, so he'll kinda wait there to see if any elaboration is needed. ]

Like Chucky, probably. He was a serial killer while alive, then again for decades after he died.

[ If anything, he's calmer talking about that than about literally anything else. ]

Yeah, damn close.

[ He thinks maybe they're getting close to their house by now, glancing from paper to house numbers. ]

So the deal with the ghost - buddy of mine Jo, [ that he got killed, along with her mother, moving on; ] connected all the dots that he was haunting this apartment building, snatching blonds and, well. [ DOING REAL BAD THINGS TO 'EM. ]

Anyway, we figured it out, but the problem with ghosts is you gotta find their bones, salt and burn them. That's what sends them on to...heaven or hell, I guess. And his grave happens to be sealed in granite in plain sight. So we trapped him in the sewer with a ring of salt and sealed the exit with concrete.

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spn makin shit up about historical figures ftw