Network Option:
Day 383 | @curiouschloride | text | My charade is the event of the season [open]

You are invited to
Mother Serpent's Winter BBQ!!

Moldy bunkers got you down? All work and no play in a shitty snowy hellscape? Join me outside the bunker tomorrow, day 384, for a day of food around the fire. Too busy exploring the bunker's glowing depths (please don't die doing that)? I'll bring food inside at the end of the day and it will be delicious but stone cold and that is your own damn fault.

Be there or be square.


Log Options:

Characters: Tess and bunkerfolks
Location: Outdoors, near the bunker entrance
Date: 383 (day and evening); 384 (daytime)
Summary: It's a cookout!
Warnings: None at present

[Day 383]
[Tess shows up at the bunker on the evening of day 383, where she stops by each of the safe rooms to spread the word. She literally goes around each room to ask people:]

Hey, did you see my thing? I'm going to make food tomorrow and you should eat it.



[Day 384]

[It's still too fucking cold outside and the sky has been spitting light snow on and off all day. It's warmer by the fire, though. The snow around the flames is slushy and there's an unfortunate lack of places to sit, but at least the air is somewhat warmer than the surrounding area. Tess's supplies are piled up nearby on top of a spare coat that will need drying out later, including a postal carrier's bag with a moderately grumpy feathered snake curled up inside.

Early in the day, the flames are high and there are few signs of any cooking happening as Tess tends the fire, looking a little bored. Later, when it burns down to coals, she gets to work wrapping the ingredients she'd cut up in the bunker the night before in packets of aluminum foil that she tucks among the coals. There's a large, abused-looking cooking pot planted in there as well, more foil over its top in place of a lid. It smells like fruit. The packets smell mostly like beef, potatoes, and bacon.]

((OOC: The first and third parts of the message is OPEN. The second part is SEMI-CLOSED to anyone with access to the Shadownet - a text only app created by Winter. It works within the Bunker. Please see this post about Shadownet distribution.

John's death price is that he can't interact with anyone. He won't see/hear messages, so he won't be responding to anything.))

Part 1 - OTA
[John wakes with a start inside his body bag. There's a momentary sense of absolute panic as he claws his way out of it, and gets off the slab he's been lying on. It's a moment to get his bearings and realize that he's in the hospital morgue. That's... not as bad as it could be. And he's fairly certain all of his memories are intact. At least one of the most important ones. John goes for his tablet first.

It doesn't even occur to him that Mary's been silent since he woke up. He can occasionally see her standing off to one side, but other than that, he's focused on the present, not the past. John double-checks the network, but there don't appear to be any new posts. Good. That means he's probably woken up the morning after being killed. As far as inconvenience goes, that's a minor one.]

Everyone, this is Dr. John Watson. Please listen closely. Rhys is in severe danger. His last known location was Building 317 on Dr. House's map. Please, if you're anywhere near there, go and check on him. He was injured during a fight a few days ago and Mr. Beckett attempted to kill him last night. I tried to stop him, but was killed in the fight. I don't know if Beckett succeeded. If Rhys is dead, Beckett may be a danger to others, particularly Enoch. Please watch out for him and please someone check on Rhys and Enoch, physically, if you're able to do so.

[He sends that out and waits for replies. And waits. John gathers his things and leaves the morgue, heading upstairs. When there still isn't a reply, he decides that maybe everyone has... somehow headed to the bunker.

'Or there's something wrong with the network,' Mary suggests. It's the first time she's spoken since John had woken up, and he glances over at her with a furrowed brow before switching on the Shadownet.]

Part 2 (half an hour later) - Shadownet Access Only
Hello? Is anyone there? This is John. There's been a serious incident. Beckett attacked Rhys last night. I died while trying to defend him. Rhys may still be alive and Enoch may be in danger. Please, could someone respond?

[Another half hour goes by as John begins walking. And then another. It's two hours later before he switches over to the regular network again. Mary's close to him now, fingers laced with his free hand.]

Part 3 - OTA
Please, I don't know what's going on, but this is Dr. John Watson. I'm heading toward Residential Zone 3. If anyone can see this message, please respond. [He looks to the side as Mary speaks up, the woman only in his own mind.

'John, I don't know there's anyone there.'

But they have to be there. The whole bloody town can't disappear overnight.

'Why not?' Mary asks.

It's a simple question, but it's absolutely chilling.]

Sherlock? Please, answer me. Alfie? Royce? Bucky? England? Stephen? Tess? Kunsel?

Anyone?

[Flynn looks pale and a little tired when he starts the feed, just your regular image of Norfinbury fatigue really. But he also looks quite content - which might have to do with the genuine excitement over the task at hand.]

Hello and good evening. I've been meaning to get in touch with you all for a while now and I come with a request for a little collaboration. Now I'm sure you all remember when communications broke down and people couldn't understand each other. With medication suspended I'd say there's a good chance it might happen again. Maybe...

[There's a needlessly dramatic pause and his hand comes up in an equally needlessly dramatic fist.] ... for good!

[Alright, now that this is out of his system...]

So! I think we should prepare for when that happens. I've talked to several people and with all this new exploration on the way we should make sure our efforts are not lost in translation at some point.

For that, I'd like to collect the most important words and phrases and devise a database of the different languages everybody is speaking. ... Oh, and if you're willing to spend some time I'd love to learn the basics of your language, too, that is, you know, if you're stuck somewhere past lockdown and don't know what to do, just, give me a call...

[He rushes through that last bit and tries to keep his tone neutral but fails horribly, the boyish excitement all over his face. Please teach him your language, he'll be the happiest nerd in Norfinbury.]

Alright, that's it.

[...]

This isn't like last time where I tried to incite others to rip into people's selves, by the way.

Just in case anyone's wondering.

I think you're all great.

Well, most of you.

Most of the times, of course excluding murder and randomly torturing each other unless it's a city thing because it's totally a city thing and we all know how that works, one minute you're hiking, just going about your post-apocalyptic day and then suddenly you're doing horrible unspeakable things to people you care about...

[Little circle gestures with his hands. It will occur to him eventually that he could just stop talking.]

This is really just about the languages and trying to facilitate communication in case we have another network incident and have trouble understanding each other which would make the exchange of new information difficult. ... And I totally just said that and well, then I guess I just said everything I came here to say.

Right.

Uh.

Stay warm.

Don't kill each other.

Characters: Nicole, Flynn, Gamora, and Peter
Location: Bldg 298
Date: Day 378
Summary: If Norfinbury was a sitcom. Cue laugh track...?
Warnings: Infinity War spoilers, potential ptsd and violence

( Til the one day the Librarian met his Guardian and they knew it was much more than a hunch, that their team up with the Guardians of the Galaxy became the most kickass Norfinbury bunch... )

[Many people here will recognize the inside of the sports shed on the campus of the elementary school. Newer people may not have seen Ecks's face before; she's a patchwork woman with a perpetually blank expression, and when she speaks (turning the tablet around as she does so, so that she's only visible for a moment at the start of the video) her voice is flat and inexpressive.

The new subject for viewing is a conical hat with the word 'DUNCE' written on it in big, red letters, which she has set on the floor of the building.]

What is this? What is a dunce? This hat is not comfortable or warm. What is its purpose?

Characters: Peter and Gamora
Location: Arcade (Bldg 292)
Date: Day 377
Summary: Guardians being Guardians.
Warnings: Infinity War spoilers, talk of major character death, ptsd

( And there ain't no road just like it, anywhere I found, running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town... )

[The audio comes out somewhat breathless; clearly Nathan's walking around in the snow while he sends this out.]

Alright, so here's brain twister: if Robert Miller dies in the snow but no one is around to hear it, does he even make a sound?

[Yeah, that's it. He's just looking for company.]

[It's been a long while since House was in a position to play for people and take requests. He's been playing for himself the past few days, loving the piano that spilled blood, in the ghost-infested elementary school. When anyone opens the post, they'll be treated to a piano cover of "Let It Be." When that comes to an end, House speaks.]

So, heading down to the entrance to see about a couple buildings there and test out Galaxy Girl's fancyass key. Picked up a couple of copies of a certain something here at the school. I've got one promised to the guy who got us into the bunker. One other lucky winner's out there. You'll have to come and get it. I'm not detouring.

If anyone's got ideas to try down in the entrance, lemme know now or forever hold your peace. We're checking that sporting goods shop up against the snow wall there to see if there's any sorta... hidden tunnel through. Then I figure we'll hit the main entrance gate, then that house with weird electrical buzzing. Anything I'm missing?

Also, any requests? This is probably the last you're getting for a while.

[Look, Maybe he'll be more successful with this than with what happened with Angel.]

The Guardians of the Galaxy are gonna do a totally heroic thing for you, the good people of this town--we're gonna go and see if we can get the coffin room unlocked with our super cool galaxy key.

But we don't work for free, so we're expecting payment for our services.

What do you got to trade? We'll take anything good.

Characters: Gamora, Flynn Carsen, Peter Quill
Location: Building 330
Date: Day/Night 359
Summary: Peter needs help, and help arrives.
Warnings: Infinity War spoilers, talk of character death, ptsd, blindness

( Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wild enough, to keep me from you )

Characters: red-marked characters
Location: ???
Date: Morning & Day 353
Summary: You wake up in a cell.
Warnings: general horror warnings; please note in subject lines for anything specific that comes up

Consolidation Theory OOC Post
Part Two OOC Post

cw: religious extremism; suicide and murder linked to religious cause; sexual harassment

[Tess looks much the same as she did when she was last seen alive. Red lines in the shape of fractals cover her body, her eyes completely red as well. There's a large feathered serpent coiled around her shoulders and an unimpressed look on her face. Anyone familiar with the columbarium might recognize the rows of plaques behind her.]

Alright, so I've had enough of playing mortal -- walking around on foot, making people breakfast, dying. I'm done, moving on, next plan. For those of you who actually fell for that whole line cook thing -- I'm Tess, Goddess of the Search, Mother Serpent, Child of Ragnarok, and Lifeblood of the Wayward -- and life blood's what we're here to talk about right now. See, my essences have been all kinds of unbalanced since I got dragged into this Hel-hole -- too much human, not enough divine. And we all know humans are basically useless, am I right?

But that's where you come in, because believe it or not, you little bastards do have the occasional use. Whoever brings me back into my power I will remember -- they will have my blessing and my protection and I will take them with me when I destroy this place.

It's nothing hard, nothing complicated, nothing one or another of you hasn't done before. There are ten or twelve liters of blood in the human body. Spill it in my name. Because hey -- even if it doesn't work, at least we'll have learned something, right?

[When she smiles, it's the same easy smile as always, the same face that makes dumb puns and offers of breakfast. Whatever has changed, Tess is still Tess...but sees nothing wrong with anything she's just said.]

[CW: CAT DEATH/INJURY]

[If anyone thought Bluestar looked a little crazy before... well, that's really nothing compared to how she looks now. Her fur is a matted mess covered in bright red lines, her blue eyes wide and wild with the whites clearly visible around their edges. She's pacing around in front of her tablet, or trying to, at least... but every step she takes, she either wobbles and takes several more steps sideways to stay upright, or simply falls onto her face or tail and has to struggle to get up again. Her claws are out and raking at the floor, but they're visibly dull from already abusing them so much.]

--Have to warn Sunpaw, have to keep him safe, can't lose another one, can't lose him again, I can't--

[The prophecies from StarClan are following her even here, that much is painfully obvious. Surely Stephen already knew, he's a medicine Twoleg, he must have been aware of what the stars had in store. She falls on her face and cracks her chin against the floor, before getting up and going right back to her awkward pacing.]

--Have to gather those loyal to SnowClan. The grassplace- the park- with the ice barrier around it, the Twoleg nests around it will be safe, we can organize and be safe and--

[It's about here that she stops, and looks up at the tablet as if she suddenly remembers that she'd turned it on. She wobbles and sits back on her haunches, staring at the camera without blinking for several minutes. Between her mangy fur and the wild look in her eyes, she looks possessed. And without warning she curls up, laying her ears flat.]

--Sunpaw isn't safe without me, my kit, my sweet kit, why did I let you out of my sight, have to find him, have to warn him, have to--

[What is she going on about...?]

[So here goes. He can't say he's looking forward to this but then again people weren't looking forward to having parts of their soul ripped away from them either, were they.

Flynn's voice is quiet, maybe a bit rough around the edges and missing its usual, energetic touch, but firm.]

I, uh. Hi.

[Well, that's off to a great start already. He sighs.]

I once told one of my professors that all I wanted to do is learn. That it is what I'm good at, where I feel most like myself. I always thought learning is the greatest thing in the universe and I never would have thought that I could ever use it to...

[He stops for a moment, frowning.]

... I like to think that I would never have done any of this if things were... different and if this town wasn't, well. If it wasn't what it is. But I also realize that some part of me - or about me - probably prompted and spurred me on. I know I hurt a lot of people and regardless of how much of it I could have prevented or not, I'm very, very sorry. About what happened and-- about what might be yet to come of it.

I'm sorry. Stay warm, everybody.

[Flynn needs to know.

He's felt so useless ever since he got here, the pace of his progress feels, compared to his other adventures, glacial (heh) and now another threat is looming on the horizon and he knows it's coming, he knows, he knows and he feels so helpless in its wake.

It's unacceptable. He needs to solve this. He needs to do something before anything happens, before anyone gets hurt, before they can hurt anyone. God, they make his skin crawl. Studying Peter – if that red-eyed creature even is Peter anymore – may be a start but it's not enough.

When he hits up the network his eyes are wild but maybe that's just his regular excitement? After all, he's smiling and not yelling or pointing fingers at (you awful creatures and whatever you are plotting and have done to his friends) his audience.]

Hello Norfinbury, this is your Librarian speaking.

Yesterday I couldn't help but notice that the [horrible unholy] patterns look different on different [alleged] people and I'm curious if we can trace it back to something in our lives. Maybe there are patterns in the-- patterns? And I happen to know one or two things about symbolism, so! There may be answers there.

[He clasps his hands together enthusiastically.]

If you're affected, I'd like to hear about your worlds [if you can even provide that, you impostors] or if you recognize anything about your patterns that seems familiar to you. This might also be a potential first step for Al's brilliant idea of making a collection about our different worlds for the e-library. Really, it seems like the perfect opportunity to get started?

[Flynn smiles.]

Let's talk.


[ooc: threadjacking, tangenting and additional soul-snatching highly encouraged!]