dualislogs | Baby lately the plans we're making

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Baby lately the plans we're making

WHO: Open to all Dualizens
WHAT: Your regularly scheduled NAPs event for the month
WHERE: Our Crazy Jane's Gallows!
WHEN: January 7-10
WARNINGS: Please use these if applicable!

Look at all of these bright, shining new faces! There’s even a few less bright, less shining faces - maybe even a few folks without faces - but hey, this city welcomes all types. Chances are, if you’ve just arrived, you're seeing some pretty crazy things, unless you're used to an eye-blinding amount of neon, robots, weird-ass technology, magic, and an omnipresent police force...and hey, if you are, congrats, you're gonna settle in just fine! But for the rest of you, the Head knows this is gonna be pretty overwhelming, right?

Well, since your quaint individual processing units are probably having a hard time, why not link up with another one? By which the Head means...

Hello, new citizens of Dualis,
and welcome to your monthly Network Adjacency Protocol~!

NAPs are a monthly community networking event similar to the Earth concept of speed dating. Two citizens (new arrivals and old hands alike) are placed at a table together with a handy cue card of queries to help break the proverbial ice. Ask (possibly invasive) personal questions and receive results - or ignore the card and yeet yourself straight into a brand new friendship, whatever works! But don't be too shy - you've only got ten minutes together, and if you just sit in silence for the whole ten, the Network Admins are likely to come supervise and try to repair the uplink through a mild shock to the ol' central nervous system. You might find yourself saying all sorts of unintended facts about yourself if that happens...probably better to just make friends, right? Who doesn’t like friends?!

Upon arrival, most will be ushered in by the Admins into the Gallery. Just ignore that large painting on the graffiti wall. Once inside you can begin to mingle and meet your fellow Dualizens, the city has also provided box wine, crackers and cheese as refreshments, a lovely Charcuterie spread laid out for any to sample while looking at the art and mingling.

This month there are two other lovely items for your amusement or horror! First off is a Karaoke machine, how the hell did they pull off getting every song you can think of with lyrics to all? Though, nearly every foul word is replaced with the sound a goose honking, have fun with that! Also, along with your normal note cards of questions you will find blank paper and kiddie packs of crayons. Make some art and leave it behind or leave it for your new friend!

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"Yeah...that's definitely some scary shit, though. I'm concerned and I don't even know her." There's some dark, fucked up shit in there, whoever it is. Maybe she's not a danger to others, but she could definitely be a danger to herself.

"Hey, there was some good stuff on that, don't knock it."

"Oh, it was great stuff. Not knocking it. But come on, that show with the metal band? Way more gruesome than this. Or that one with the superhero and his alien rival? Girlfriend who had literal ants in her brain? All the actors got bumped over to the spy show."

He makes a dismissive gesture.

"Eh. Yeah, I'll ask her. She seems generally fucked up even when she's not the artist... sort of a lot of personalities in there."

"I'm just saying, a check in might be appreciated." That girl needs some help. Like it's possible she's just one of those weird girls, but damn.

"Oh come on, it was a cartoon. Like, jokes? You know what jokes are?"

"Trust me, if you had met Hammerhead? This could very well be her sense of humor."

But yeah, he'll check in. "Could be one of the others, though. She's..."

He makes a loose motion around his head. "She's got a lot going on up there so I might get put on call waiting."

"Jesus, the poor girl." That is a pretty awful sense of humor and Dom can't imagine living with it, but whatever works maybe?

"Yeah well, I'm just saying. I don't know her or anything but she seems kind of...you know."

He sighs heavily in agreement. She's not wrong.

"Yeah, she is uh pretty uh... you know. I'll try to talk to the artist bit." As if the other bits are all different things; which he knows they are. But it's hard to explain this strange bewildering superpower version of DID to someone.

"I swear I recognize some of the places in these pictures."

"Really? I can't make a whole lot of sense out of any of it." Good on him if he could, though. Maybe she just hasn't been here long enough, although it's getting to the point where that excuse doesn't fly anymore.

"Yeah, I was a traffic patrol officer when I first got here. Meter maid, road crossings, all that shit. Meant I had to get around a lot. It's sort of a uh... One of those French styles of art? Version? But yeah. I recognize a couple of these places. The mural outside is in the park."

He scratches his beard thoughtfully. Real art connoisseur here. 'French style' and 'like those old mature cartoons' being his big description of what's going on.

"Creepy. The painting not you." Just to, you know. Clarify. Not trying to insult anyone. Right now.

"That mean anything, or is that just what she has to work with right now?" Take that how you will, Hank. She's good either way.

"Well, I don't know. I got a pretty good 'Do you know why I pulled you over, ma'am,' voice I like to whip out every once in a while. That's pretty creepy." But once he's done poking a little fun at himself, he looks a little more serious.

"...Yeah, I think it does." Then a pause. "But! Luckily for her, the Head probably provides every building rented by new souls some sort of security monitoring to keep them safe. Isn't that good for everyone."

The grin that follows it tight. Yeah, he probably shouldn't talk about it now. Or at least until the next karaoke song is especially blaring.

"Oh Jesus, I did not need to hear that." But she laughs, though. Can't really help it. Just the thought of the guy sidling up to a car all like do you know why I stopped you sounding like a creeper...god, that's about the best thing ever.

"Yeah, well. Sounds like they really care about people." Or you know. Whatever.

He chuckles a little too. Gotta use that deep voice of his for something.

"Just... a big heart and the desire to take everyone under his glorious metal wing, I guess."

He gestures loosely.

"Gotta take care of his specially chosen group of people with unique talents. Like, apparently, painting gratuitous tragedies... I think I'm too sober to be looking at these."

"I think we're all too sober for this shit." This shit in general, really, but being drunk in public is rude. Although she half wonders if anybody except the police would even care.

"Think we could dip early and find a bar? With better drinks?"

"Yeah," he agrees, finally, with a nod.

"I guess I'm just more of a music guy." Which is fine, one supposed. Not that he can't respect artistic talent, just, if he's listening to a song? It can hurt his very heart. With art? It's harder to look at and soak up a deeper meaning.

And being more of a music guy means he is suffering right now.

"I'm guessing a lot of people here aren't really into this kind of art." Maybe there's a sicko somewhere who's so inspired by it, but they're probably a serial killer.

"I was in a church for someone's funeral service once and they had this painting on the wall? Supposed to be a picture of the fucking apocalypse. And there were skeletons attacking and people being skinned and the whole thing was a mess and I was just like, 'Why the fuck do they have this in the same room where they might have a fucking service? Give people some fucking peace of mind.

"I love that they're fucking having karaoke with the death pictures. Break into some fuckin' 'Staying Alive' while surrounded by art of everyone but."

It's not a knock at the artist, she's good. But there are some situational issues here that remind him of what a sociopathic machine the head is.

"You're asking me? I haven't been in a church for a long ass time." Honestly, she's been about done with religion since she was kid. And why fucking bother to understand the crazy bullshit anyway? It's never going to make sense and no one's ever going to be able to reason with them--even with her luck.

"Kinda thinking people didn't really have a choice on the karaoke."

"Makes it even creepier, really."

There's a distinct lack of ability to read the fucking room that the Head has. It plans events with the assumption of tiding them over with interesting things or seeing their reactions to shock value or something fuckin' dumb. He doesn't know.

Anyway he's glad to get away from whatever drunken master is about to bust out Wonderwall. God. Don't send him back in time to there! He doesn't want to be there!

"Shit I didn't even get your name, I just ran with you from the art party like we were trying to fuck off from a zombie horde. I'm Hank." Whether she's seen him on the network or not, it's good to throw a name out there.

"We're so polite, right? I guess I can forgive you." She teases, really and gives a little laugh as she extends her hand for a shake. There are definitely better places they could have met, but hey, at least no one's dying. Yet.

"Domino. Nice to meet you, Hank."

Nope, just a whole gallery of death.

"Hey, were you here for the ball? Where they had the ice sculptures of death gods but with the Macy's parade-style color themes? This place is morbid as hell. Stepford Wives with neon lights."

"Yeah. It was almost nice?" At least it was a party, that she couldn't argue with. Kind of a stupid, morbid party, but still a party. "I mean, as long as you think 'nice' is colorful death."

"It had booze but honestly I just don't think I'm fuckin' classy enough for these things. Hell, I probably wasn't classy enough for my own fuckin' wedding."

Who would ever consider a man in a brilliant disco shirt that classy.

"I know a guy who had a statue of his sister up there because she's a goddess of death. Way to have a weird reminder of family."

"I mean, let's be honest, if you have to be classy to go to a wedding, you're at the wrong kind of wedding." At least you're not at the fun kind, you know like that train wreck that everyone just watches unfold slowly while taking bets on how long the marriage is going to last? That's the good shit.

"Yeah, that's kind of a lot creepy."

"That's a good point. I'll remember that for next time."

Because he did have one of those weddings, where someone kept pointing out that the groom was forty and she was early thirties and they took bets on how long it would last. A few people won.

"Have you run into people from home? Or ones that look close to it?"

"Nope. Not sure how I feel about that." On one hand, great, on the other great. And all of that. Nice that her friends aren't being tortured, kinda wishes they were there to help. Kinda like everyone, she guesses. There's an upside and a downside.

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