(july intro log) WELCOME TO THE CONTAINMENT ZONE! (for real this time.)

[vestigemods]

JULY INTRO LOG

► PROMPT 1 ► WAKING UP

Whenever you're from or wherever you were, you awaken now with the mildest of headaches in-... oh, this is new. For some people, you wake in a cabin - in a bed, on the floor, amidst boxes in the basement - and for others, you wake up somewhere else entirely. Off in the woods. Between aisles in a run-down gas station. Lying on a branch ten feet up a local tree. Perhaps even on a leaky boat out on the middle of a lake. It's mid-morning, and across the nine square miles of containment zone, a little under two-dozen people are waking up just as you are. I'm sure you'll run into some of them soon enough.

This might be your first time waking up where you don't expect to be. If it is, consider yourself lucky to have missed what came before. For those have been through a Loop or three (or five or twelve), you'll find that waking this time feels different. It's as though you've woken from a dream - and that's what those memories feel like, trapped in the semi-tangible realm between dream and reality, though if pressed you can probably discern that they were undeniably real. (Or perhaps you can't - or perhaps some of the memories are missing altogether. This is hardly a precise science.)

Somewhere in your vicinity (in your hand, in your pocket, on your chest) is a smartphone, if you're able to recognize it as such. The models tend to vary, but they all share the capacity to connect to what seems to be an overarching network, able to connect to others with similar devices via text, voice calls, or even video messages.

But the phone is likely the least of your concerns, at least for now. More pressing is where exactly it is that you've awoken and whether or not you've woken up alone.

PROMPT 2 ► THE CABINS + LAKE

As many as a dozen cabins sit in the general vicinity of the lake, some along the shore and some a bit farther back in the woods. Perhaps you awoke in one, or perhaps you're stumbling into one after dragging yourself out of the lake or through a couple of miles of woods. Either way, you're in perhaps the best place you might have ended up. The cabin's amenities are sketchy but functional, and the kitchen is stocked with food...

And let's not forget about the pamphlets.

On at least a couple of nearby tables or countertops sit a handful of them, fanned for display. They're vividly colored, depicting what you might recognize as the landscape outside, and the title reads: THE CONTAINMENT ZONE AND YOU! Within these pamphlets, a conversationally cavalier voice explains a bit about the Containment Zone, which (as it turns out) you're stuck in right at this very moment.


"THE CONTAINMENT ZONE AND YOU", summarized


• Where am I?
  Earth. Well - an Earth. Definitely not your Earth. if that creates more questions than it answers, glance to your left and right and ask any follow-up questions to whomsoever seems least confused.


• Why am I here?
  To feed the elder gods with your death and/or suffering in order to prevent any more of an apocalypse than we already had.


• Can I leave?
  Voluntarily? No. Involuntarily? Probably not.


• What do you mean, 'death'??
  Oh, calm down. You'll come back.


• I have very important shit to be doing/people to be saving/weed to be smoking back home!
  Lucky for you: If you go back, we'll put you back right where and when you left off. You won't miss a thing.


• Isn't that how you break time!? I'm pretty sure that's how you break time.
  Only if you remember this place and/or what you've learned here when you get back. Which you won't.


• Supplies?
  Cabins and gas station.


• Cabins?
  Yours. Pick one.


• Lake?
  Safe. (For now.)


• Moon?
  Haunted.


• Who even are you?
  Call us the Technicians. Individual identities don't matter. We may give you sweets and toys but we're not your friends.


• Do you at least negotiate?
  We'll consider it. Depends on what you're asking for. And, of course, on what you have to offer.


• Wait! I'm (insert emotions) and have more questions!
  How unfortunate. Expect your next pamphlet in 4-6 weeks.




Well, that certainly is... something. Lots to discuss, lots to consider. If you're the get-right-to-business sort, that could easily occupy you for a good long while.

Alternatively: It's a hot day, and you've just ever-so-conveniently learned that the lake is 'safe (for now)'. Why not go for a dip to clear your head? The water is actually impressively clear, offering visual reassurance of the lack of abject horrors lurking below.

Those who do swim find that the lake is, as promised, mostly innocuous. 'Mostly' being the key phrase, as anyone who swims out close to the center will find it getting more and more difficult to stay on the surface. As if you're getting heavier and heavier, or your limbs are getting weaker and weaker. It isn't enough to drown you (probably), but you certainly might find yourself considering how peaceful it might be if you let yourself sink.

These thoughts are simple enough to push away in much the same way you might push through the heaviness of your limbs. One could consider it more a warning than anything: Even that which is 'safe' should be treated with proper caution. (Quick and senseless deaths are junk food to the elder gods - tasty but unsatisfying.)

PROMPT 3 ► THE GAS STATION

At the south end of the containment zone sits an old gas station, run-down and overgrown at first sight. It sits alongside a cracked asphalt road, one which (as you might discover) bisects the containment zone from the east wall to the west without a single other building in sight.

You may have woken up here, or perhaps you found it at the pamphlet's behest. Either way, it's a discovery that you'll thank yourself for many a time as throughout the next few months here, for reasons that become apparent the moment you step inside.

In sharp contrast with the outside, the inside of the gas station looks... well, like a functional gas station should. Floors and surfaces seem recently-wiped, shelves seem stocked and organized... It's enough that if you're familiar with gas stations as a concept, you might find yourself reflexively glancing around for an attendant.

But no attendant seems to be present. Just shelves and shelves of goods - perishables and nonperishables, first aid supplies and whatever else one might expect to find at such an out-of-the-way pit stop, all ready for the taking. You might even find an extra surprise. Oh, and let's not forget a nice array of THE CONTAINMENT ZONE AND YOU! pamphlets on the check-out counter, in case you missed them back at the cabins.

Maybe you encounter someone here - are they friend, or foe? Maybe they're as lost and confused as you are. Maybe they're reaching for that last fucking can of Spaghetti-Os and you're serious about your fucking Spaghetti-Os. At least one person is definitely waking up in a gas station fridge... Maybe you're lucky(?) individual who spots them and has to decide whether or not you've discovered a corpse where the soda should be. The world (or, at least, the gas station) is your oyster.

PROMPT 4 ► THE WOODS + BARRIER

The vast majority of the containment zone is covered in evergreen forest, populated with wildlife that look and act disarmingly normal. It may, in fact, be a nice quiet place to stroll in order to clear your head. While large swathes of the woods are moderately dense, there are a number of paths to make your way along should you choose to. Birds sing overhead, deer occasionally bound across the path ahead... If you didn't know any better, you might be able to forget that this isn't a normal stretch of woods somewhere not far from home.

But nothing in the containment zone is truly harmless. The blackberry bushes that line many a cabin (you remember, the ones that make your mouth and tongue go numb?) are out in force in the woods, and out here they're even more of an infernal menace: While the cabin variety only cause havoc when ingested, so much as a scratch from the woods variety's thorns will induce a tingling numb in the affected area that lasts for the better part of an hour.

And let's not forget the lovely field of "wildflowers" that definitely aren't not infested with poison ivy. It's a shame, really. The flowers themselves are quite pretty, an array of pastel blues and pinks and oranges. It's almost like a painting, if touching that painting happened to make you itch, burn, and blister for one-to-two weeks.

But why are we talking about flowers? What you're truly interested in is the containment zone barrier, aren't you? That's fine, you're bound to encounter it out there somewhere. It's invisible until you touch it, at which point a honeycomb pattern ripples out from the point of contact. As a general rule, the barrier gives back what it gets: Place your palm on it and you'll receive a faint uncomfortable buzz. Run headlong into it, and it will ricochet you multiple yards back into the woods.

The barrier stretches all the way around the containment zone without a single break or point of yielding. No further buildings can be seen beyond the barrier, nor any real sign of civilization at all save for the gas station's road stretching past the barriers and out of sight. The only thing of passable interest is the somewhat concerning tree sitting at the far end of the field across the street from saud gas station, at least two-hundred yards past the barrier. At this distance, it's a bit tricky to make out what flocks in the tree's branches. Those have to be birds... right?

► MOD NOTES ►

• This log takes place from July 4th onward, arguably through whenever the event goes up - though you're welcome to toss up your own logs in the meantime. I'm gonna troubleshoot the HTML to leave a space for IC dates, but I didn't want to waste any more time on that right now.
  
• Vestige is now open for business! You're welcome to post logs + network posts of your own, post memes on vestigechat, whatever you want.
  
• This log is functionally intended to be a tour of the containment zone for new characters and players, with dashes of mild horror or discomfort along the way. Don't worry: The actual horror is rolling in later this month. (I'm tagging this under 'event' anyway, just to keep track of it.)
  
• You can literally have your character wake up wherever you want within the containment zone, even if I didn't list it. Go nuts.
  
• It's worth noting: None of the cabins are recognizable as the precise one from the TDM loop, nor is the forest fog still present. The forest is recognizably the same flora/fauna, but that's about it.
  
• You're welcome to include a network post with your top-level (or to put it up on vestigenet as per usual) - but don't forget to consult the NETWORK: USERNAMES ARE FUCKY drop-down of July's Infopost before you do!
  
• Direct any and all questions at Trace on plurk/discord or (for slightly slower answers) this top-level.
  
• My deepest most heartfelt apologies for the lateness, I failed to factor in my own godforsaken attention span.
  

Comments

David | Alien Series

[goingtobefun]

i. the gas station

The milk in the fridge is spoiled. Which wouldn't really be a problem for David, he supposes, if he drank it. He could process it just fine. But Weylend Industries had blessed him with taste-buds, too, and spoiled milk simply doesn't taste right.

Luckily, in his explorations, he'd found what looked to be a convenience store of some sort. Or a gas station, given the pumps outside. And no attendant inside, which is fortuitous, given that David has no sort of currency on him.

But there is fresh milk, and bars of chocolate, and David is pleased.

Perhaps this new place won't be so bad after all.


ii. the lake area

Sunset has always been his favourite time of day. Sunrise as well, but he hadn't arrived in time for the sunrise. Tomorrow, perhaps.

For now, he stands at the edge of the lake, watching the sun go down. Admiring the colours the fading light paints across the water, complimenting the greens in the reflections of the trees.


iii. wildcard
[Hit me!]

ii. Lakeside at Sunset~

[singularwidower]

Tucked away among the pines at the treeline, Daemon putters about in the dying light, tidying up his tools and scrap from the repairs he'd been attempting to make on the sagging porch. A witchlight, burning red, bobbed along at his shoulder so he could at least see his hands as he finished. Tomorrow was another day for making his cabin livable. Out of new, paranoid habit, he cast his awareness across the lake, looking for more new arrivals by the spark of mental presence and found nothing. Or at least nothing unusual.

It wasn't until he went to sit and used his actual eyeballs on the lakeshore that he realized that there was a person there. One he hadn't sensed.

Well, that was cause for some investigation, now wasn't it?

Daemon sauntered down the little path he was already carving from cabin to lake and toward this new...phenomena.

"Hello?" he called, politely. In the evening light, they certainly looked precisely like a human.

[goingtobefun]

David glances over his shoulder to see who the newcomer is. No one he recognizes, but that's hardly surprising; he can't assume to have met everyone here yet.

So he turns to face the man properly, polite smile in place. "Hello, there. May I assist you with something?"

[singularwidower]

Casually, Daemon gives the odd...man a once-over. Hrm. Nope. Still nothing to his psychic senses, but he's clearly standing there and speaking to Daemon without any apparent concern. He weighs the benefits of a more subtle investigation into this person's mysteries. There were very few scenarios he was aware of that would cause such a thing, and one of them was a confrontation with a power that eclipsed his own.

His witchlight, glowing red, bobs above his hand as he considers.

Though he doesn't consider long. "Forgive me if this is a rude question, but I couldn't help but notice that you do not have a psychic signature. Would you know why that is?"

[goingtobefun]

He tenses at the sight of the glowing red light in the man's hand. Not because he fears it, but because he feels he ought to show concern about it. It looks like something that would be concerning to humans, and perhaps this man is doing it as a show of power. Better to err on the side of safety, and at least look like it makes him nervous.

"Now, now. There's no need for that. I'd be happy to answer your question, if you would be so kind as to tell me what exactly a psychic signature is. I haven't encountered such a phrase in my travels."

[singularwidower]

Faintly baffled, Daemon raises his eyebrows. "No need for what?" He's more than used to make people nervous just by existing, so the stranger's affectation doesn't register as anything out of the ordinary, nor does he attribute the nervousness to anything in particular he is doing at the moment. Though it did suggest to him that 'more powerful' wasn't the solution to this little conundrum, which was good to know. "I was merely wondering--ah. I am used to living minds registering as a unique presence to my senses. You do not register at all as a unique presence, hence my curiosity."

[goingtobefun]

"The light above your hand. What is it?" He tilts his head curiously at the explanation of a psychic signature. How interesting to be able to tell if something is living or not in such a way. Touching minds like that.

"Though my mind might be considered by some to be living, it is not human, if that is what you mean. My name is David, I am an android built by Weyland Industries. Perhaps that is why I don't register this... psychic signature."

[singularwidower]

"Daemon Sadi, you may call me either Daemon, or Sadi," he replies automatically, defaulting to pleasantries. He glances at the dimming sky and allows the witchlight to flare just that much brighter, its red glare shivering over the lakeshore.

"It's a witchlight," he says. "It casts light, nothing more. Might I take it from your words that you have never seen such a thing and were considering it something more threatening? More rather something that could threaten an...android?" He rolls the word around in his mouth as he speaks it, slow and curious. "Praytell what is an android?"

[goingtobefun]

"A witchlight. How interesting. That, then, implies that you are a witch." He takes a few steps closer, curious now.

"An android is a man-made machine. Built for the purpose of doing what humans might be unable, or unwilling to do. We are meant to assist, and facilitate."

i

[obeir]

Across the station, K is curiously trying on a pair of tacky sunglasses in the manner of someone who's never encountered any before. Will they be potentially useful in this new prison he's found himself trapped within? It's hard to say. He looks at himself in the provided display mirror, and that's when he realises he isn't alone — catching sight of someone's reflection as they move down one of the candy aisles. Tall, blond. Something just a little off about him, in a way that K strongly associates with other replicants. A distinct artificiality that's obvious to eyes trained to recognise it at a glance.

Interesting.

Still wearing the sunglasses, K turns around to peer toward the actual man, calling out a tentative, "Hey."

[goingtobefun]

The milk goes back in the cooler for now, so it doesn't go warm during what might be a conversation. He smiles, polite in a way that's just slightly unnerving to most humans.

"Hello. What an interesting choice in eyewear."

[obeir]

Unnerving to humans but less troubling to K, familiar as this sort of manner is to him. Not so long ago he'd behaved in much the same way, when he was still new to the world and hadn't yet been beaten down by humans. The failure to adapt tends to be a death sentence in his homeworld.

"There's more sun here than I'm used to," he replies as he pulls off the sunglasses and pockets them, along with an extra pair. Tech Boy probably wouldn't be caught dead in them, but they might be useful one day. Deerington had taught him to prepare for any eventuality.

"Have you been here long? In this — world, I mean."

[goingtobefun]

"No, not long at all. I'm still exploring. Adjusting. As are we all, I think.

Though it seems some have been here long enough to be comfortable with throwing parties. There was one not long ago, by the lake."

His movements, at least, are less stiff than his facial expressions. More fluid, as he steps forward towards this new acquaintance and offers his hand. "My name is David."

[obeir]

K's gaze lowers from David's face down to his hand and back up again, almost as though he isn't sure what the protocol is for this. Which isn't too far from the truth; people don't normally offer to shake his hand. In his homeworld, he was never treated like an actual person deserving of basic social niceties.

And that's why having this courtesy extended to him now is met with a look between surprised and vaguely pleased as he takes David's hand. If only he also had a name to offer.

"KD6-3.7. My serial number," he explains with the air of someone who's used to having to, "but most people call me K." A pause. "A party," he deadpans. "That's an interesting reaction to the stress of captivity. Are there... many other people here?"

[goingtobefun]

All thoughts of further discussing the party go out of his head, because there are now much more important things to attend to. Like the fact that the being standing in front of him has a serial number, which can only mean one thing.

"So you're an android, as well." David looks a little surprised, but pleased. Happy to meet one of his own kind. "You look so amazingly human. My father would have been fascinated to meet you."

[obeir]

Oh. That certainly explains David's — everything.

"I am," K confirms, his expression becoming incredulous. "You had a father?"

Which, for better or worse, he's assuming to mean a biological one, because he personally would never refer to his own creator in that manner. (And Niander Wallace would probably prefer to be called "god", anyway.)

[goingtobefun]

"A maker, I suppose, would be a better term. But he always referred to me as his son. I was the first of my line. A new line of robots meant to be as close to human as possible. And he was proud of me." There's a certain amount of nostalgia there. A little bit of his own pride, though it is tinged with something like sadness.

"Peter Weyland was his name. He said I was the closest thing to a son he would ever have."

[obeir]

"He named you?" It's said wistfully. Only androids fortunate enough to have someone who cares about them get named, in K's experience. His own handler had never bothered. Tech Boy had offered to help name him, before, but with so many more important things to worry about... the offer might have been forgotten?

"And considered you a son," he repeats, that wistfulness becoming something closer to awe. He can hardly fathom what that must have been like, to have a real family. "You must have been very special to him. What— was it like? Having a father? Did you get to live together?"

He has So Many Questions, but he's trying not to overwhelm David with them.

[goingtobefun]

"I named myself. When I was first made, he showed me art, and music. I saw a copy of the Statue of David, and I chose my name that way." David's expression softens into something like sadness.

"I asked him that, once. If I was his son. He answered simply that he was my creator, and I did not ask again.

But... yes. I lived with him. I cared for him as he grew older." He tries to smile, but it's sharp. Painful. "I was special to him until I wasn't."

ii

[metanoias]

[ Androids don't really have to "get used to" things the way humans do. Something happens once to Connor and it becomes something he knows to expect, knows how to calculate into the likelihood of occurrences. Back in Deerington he didn't have to get used to the fact that he couldn't identify humans based on a visual scan anymore because one occurrence was all he needed to acclimate.

That doesn't mean it doesn't frustrate him.

He hadn't held out much hope that this place would be any different in that regard. Every human he's encountered so far has been the same as Deerington — rather than a name, birth date, criminal history, and so forth, he gets nothing more than a series of errors, NO DATA, one big question mark. He hates it.

However, on this particular evening, Connor's curiosity is piqued by a man standing on the shore of the lake. It's not this man's series of errors, NO DATA, or question mark that gets him. It's the lack of them. This man doesn't have any biological signatures but he's not a Cyberlife android, either. He's from somewhere else. Sometime else too, probably, given how these places usually work.

It's enough that Connor approaches him immediately and greets him with a very direct: ]

You're an android, aren't you?

[ Connor had ditched his uniform a long time ago, but the LED ring in his temple still stands out as a clear reminder that he isn't human. ]

I'm sorry. I don't mean to alarm you. I'm an android, too.

[goingtobefun]

[David's TIPE was not built for scanning, or any such instantaneous learning methods. Rather, they were meant to learn and absorb information organically. Like humans do, albeit at a much faster rate. It was meant to put humans more at ease. To make them feel like the androids were just like them, to integrate with them flawlessly.

While that all looked good on paper, it never quite worked in real life. Teams including androids had a tendency to consider the android as other, much like David had experienced.

But this android in front of him, with his blinking LED display, were clearly not meant to blend in like David was. And so David is taken aback by what feels, at first, like an accusation. He softens, though, posture relaxing again, when he see who -- or what -- exactly is accusing him.]

Yes, I am. I'm not alarmed, merely curious as to how you could tell so quickly. I was built to appear as close to human as possible.

[metanoias]

[ Connor is, perhaps, not the best judge of whether or not an android appears particularly human-like. He too was meant to appear as close to human as possible (save for the LED) but had been told once upon a time that Cyberlife had quote, "fucked up." So there's that.

But whether or not another android is human-like or not is unimportant to Connor anyway. He's got them special eyeballs. ]

I'm equipped with a highly advanced scanning system, [ he explains, not without a touch of something like pride. ] Although it doesn't work perfectly here, I can still visually differentiate between organic and inorganic life forms.

[ This is casual conversation for him. He's doing his best.

A pause. ]

But you're not from Cyberlife, are you?

[ A question purely for manners' sake. Connor already knows the answer. ]

[goingtobefun]

No, I am not. I was made by Weyland Industries. Though I take it that you were manufactured by this company, Cyberlife?

[He peers curiously at his new companion. Especially the LED display at his temple.]

An interesting choice, to have something so obviously robotic on display. What purpose does it serve.