dualislogs | well, i know i had it coming …

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well, i know i had it coming …

WHO: Open to all Dualizens
WHAT: Your regularly scheduled NAPs event for the month
WHERE: Dualis Danger Lock
WHEN: Feb. 10-13
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?!

And who doesn’t like meeting friends in a cramped, high-stress environment? That’s how some of the best friendships are forged - under pressure. Like diamonds! Luckily, for this month, NAPs provides just such an ideal friendmaking environment, courtesy of the brand-new escape room mega-complex, Dualis Danger Lock! This establishment boasts six different highly challenging escape rooms, all designed for small teams of two to three apiece. Usually, the six rooms offer six different themes - jewel heists, high-stakes espionage, and so on - but this month, each escape room differs only in the layouts and clues, because the themes are all the same.

That’s right - you’re attempting to escape from prison. Good luck with that!

After you’ve bonded with your new friends over sharing your skills at puzzle-solving and exited your escape room of choice, grab a table at the food court for snacks and mildly invasive personal questions, or blow off some steam at the arcade. Or, if you have high-pressure steam that needs to be let off, treat yourself to an adult beverage at the Danger Key bar.

Enjoy your freedoms, Dualizens! Enjoy them while they last ...

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

No Escape

There aren't a lot of things that upset Zack. At all. And there were very few things that can upset him nearly as much as this. He hadn't understood just what was meant before he got here. After all, it was just a NAPs, and he loved those, loved getting to meet people and getting to talk. But then he had walked inside and he'd seen it. Heard someone pitching what the place was, offering to put him with one of the teams. They would put them in a room they couldn't get out of, the person was saying. And their job was to use the clues and tools in the room to get out.

That sentence didn't even finish before Zack found it was almost impossible to breathe. He pushed pas the person and back outside, just about falling over.

It's worse than ever facing a dragon to be honest. He's fought honest to god monsters that could eat him. So why was he panicking over this?

But he was, he absolutely was, and Zack flopped down on the street outside and tried to keep himself from shaking too much.

Its Still NAPS Outside Isn't It?

Well, just because things were bad didn't mean he had to, you know, not talk to people. After a talk to calm down Zack stood outside of the building, waving at people who came in for NAPs.

"Hey, pretty day, isn't it? Maybe we can do the whole meet and greet thing out here, right?"

Better than another freak out inside, right?

The term "escape room" wasn't really a familiar one to Steph. She'd been expecting something fun. Maybe it would be, in the right circumstances. But here? She doesn't trust the city to let them out again, no matter how many puzzles they solve.

She's turning to leave when Zack runs out. She isn't even the person he bumps into. She's seen that kind of thing before. She'sdone that kind of thing before. She follows him out, but stays on her feet and makes sure to leave him enough space so as not to be perceived as a threat.

"Hey. Want me to grab you a water bottle? There's a drug store three doors down."

Breathing is hard. It's like something's pressing down around him. Thick fluid, pressing from all sides, in his eyes, in his nose, in his lungs. But he can breathe. Tube down his throat and he can breathe. And he shudders.

Someone's talking. Zack licks his lips and looks up at her.

"I... water would be good."

She smiles, knowing it's mostly for herself.

"Be right back." She runs off to perform the errand, hopefully giving him enough time to prepare himself for her return if he can't manage to collect himself.

She returns and offers him the bottle, leaning against the wall.

"Here. Take your time."

Manage to collect himself? Hell no. Years caught up in a literal test tube. Nope, not the greatest memory or time. When the water shows up he takes it. Turns it over in his hands. Downs almost half of it before he pauses to talk.

"Thanks. I... I'll be okay in a second."

It isn't the first time Sal has woken up in a strange place with voices talking to him and he's sure it won't be the last, just as he was sure the last time wouldn't be the last. He's more filled with dread than surprise — but not from fear. "What now?" is all he has left to wonder. He tried calling out to Ashley and even Todd but either they couldn't hear him or there was no connection between him and Ash anymore. Which would make sense, because he doesn't think he's between dimensions right now and he can't...well, "sense" her.

A lot of the questions he actually wants answers to only get vague and obscure responses, which he expects. That's fine. It's fine. That's just what voices do, AI or ghostly, right? There's a lot about what he learns that troubles him, but even more so that his home is in shambles right now and he can't do anything to go back and help Ash and Todd fix things.

Not this shit again.

PRISON BREAK

He managed to get some clothes, thankfully. He doesn't know a lot about where he is other than what he's been told but he's sure showing up in an orange jumpsuit would have been off putting to a lot of people. He found some blue jeans he was able to fit into — he's pretty sure they're fit for a teen girl but it matters very little to him, evident by the fact that he went with a pink top that has some sort of floral pattern to it. A bit of fun for his bleak situation.

He knows what escape rooms are, but he's never been to one before. He can't say he isn't a little perturbed by the implications, considering his trapped circumstances. Not to mention just how close to home it hits. Three years in prison with nothing but his thoughts, curled up in a corner staring at nothing, waiting for death. It's not something he particularly wants to revisit, and yet he goes along with it anyway. After everything, at the end of the day, being in that cell wasn't the worst experience of his life. Besides, you don't get kidnapped by some mysterious AI and dumped into city just to have fun. Maybe there's something here. There's always something, right?

It looks pretty straight forward, as is the deceptive nature of escape rooms he would imagine. It's a cell; there's the bed that typically sticks out from the wall, but it's closed and pushed right up against it, a footlocker — the basics of a cell, which he can now say he knows from experience.

After a moment, once they're left to their own devices, there's a muffled sigh from behind his plastic face and a rather deadpanned declaration. "This theme is shitty."

MORE NAPS

That was something.

He hates how hungry he is, but being dead — or whatever he is, and spending a long ass time trying to escape a small room and pondering the poor choice you made indulging in something that makes you want to break out in hives can really get the appetite going. He grabs a soda and a small fries, taking a seat at an empty table. He's aware of the whole...speed friending thing, but he doesn't really mind talking to new people. In fact, on most normal days, he enjoys it quite a bit.

He doesn't take his mask off to eat, instead unstrapping the lower buckles and shoving a fry or two underneath his mask, or his straw when he wishes to take a drink. When someone is seated across from him he takes it upon himself to be the first one to speak.

"Hey. Want a fry?"

Okay, he's usually better at greetings, but it's been a long day. Or month. A long life. He's tired.

ARCADE

The arcade is a nice and familiar place in an unfamiliar world. It's a nice reminder of the old days where he'd pop down after classes (or during classes) and hang out with the gang, setting records, destroying records, or just shoveling bad food into their mouths while huddling around Todd as he set another high score.

Right now though, he can be found working on a sidescroller. It easily drew him in in its nostalgia, but damn was it hard. Not that he's never been challenged before, but the protagonist moves at lightening speed and you have to be quick with the shooting as you hurdle towards enemies.

"Damn it." He watches as his little caped dude explodes after colliding with an enemy and diminishing the last bit of his health bar. What was this, level 30? Maybe he should give up...or...if you happen to approach he'll step to the side. "Bet you can't do a level without getting hit once." His dare is playful and not mocking, though, which he's careful to convey seeing as his smile isn't visible.

DORMS; closed to Jason

He decided to come here last. It brings such a finality to the whole situation as reality sets in that he's probably going to be here a while. He already misses Ash, and Todd, and Larry. And Gizmo. He would worry more about the cat if he didn't have faith that Ash would go back to the house and check on him. She's good like that.

Sal takes a quick glance around the room, rubbing the back of his head as his mask shifts from the ruffling of his buckles. He's had roommates before, just...he actually knew them. The thought of rooming with a stranger filled him with anxiety, but not for the obvious reasons. How was he going to sleep? With his mask on? Would he just bury himself under his covers every night and keep his mask right beside him instead of hanging on the bed post? Should he take his eye out still? What if it grossed them out? What if they were nosy? What if they hated him? In retrospect, he couldn't care less if someone hated him, but what if they hated him enough that they felt the need to antagonize him to the point of violence? He just doesn't want to deal with that right now. Here's to hoping if they end up punching him in the face they do it once and let it go.

All these thoughts swim through Sal's mind, he doesn't even realize he's standing there, in the middle of the room, staring into space like a weirdo.

"Sure." She shrugs. She doubts he'll be okay any time soon. She eases herself down to sit next to him, arms stretched out over her knees, eyes to the distance. If he's anything like her a concerned face is the last thing he wants to see right now.

She gives him another moment before she starts talking, as though simply making conversation.

"Did I ever tell you that I died? Four years ago. Some really messed up stuff happened. I woke up in a place sort of like this, nothing but scars to show for it, but... it took a long time for me to be okay in the dark again. I still have nightmares. Not as often as I used to, but just as bad. Some injuries never really heal, I guess."

Four years ago. So she's had time to process being dead. And then being alive again. Zack...

"Four months. I died four months ago, and when this place is done with me, I go back to being dead. And I'm too scared to tell my best friend that I died saving his life. But it's not that. It's..."

Zack gestures vaguely behind them. At the building.

"Four years captive, experimented on. Getting lucky enough to escape because they got lazy with their little failed projects. I..."

He can't handle it. Not in there. Not for fun. Being trapped in this city is one thing. Figure out the right combination of things to get the Head deposed, get the people he cares about and still has home, and then just... what? Live here? Die here? He doesn't know.

She grimaces. Four months isn't nearly enough time. Four months into her 'afterlife' she'd still been sleeping in an attic, not letting anyone know where she lived.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Here and now, though? You don't have to be okay. And you definitely don't have to play a dumb game, or apologize, or make excuses to people who don't even know you. Hell, I'd even buy you a drink on the other side of town if you wanted. Start a bar fight if you're in the mood. That's always cathartic."

Well, he'd had someone there to support him from the word go.

"I don't really, you know, like fights. Or starting them. People in the bar probably don't deserve me to break their face in."

"Depends on the bar," she concedes. She loves a good fight, but she always makes sure the people she's beating up deserve it.

"Whatever works for you, though."

"Some puzzle," Shay mutters derisively as she picks up the oversized padlock on the cell door. It has symbols instead of numbers, which will make it pretty easy to figure out what's a clue and what isn't. The lock and bars are solid steel, but they're planted in concrete. A bit of Special strength and the right application of leverage will turn it to dust.

She lets the lock fall and turns to face the rest of the room. Her enhancements make this a little unfair, but why ruin the fun for the randoms?

"Well, where do you want to start? The dozens of hiding places on the bed, the random junk on the shelf, or the conspicuous Rusty phone?" The snake tattoos on her face move almost inperceptibly in time with her heartbeat.

Edited 2020-02-15 14:35 (UTC)

Anyone wearing a mask immediately puts Jason a little more on edge than normal - thanks, Gotham, for that - but Jason’s also pretty good at reading body language, and nothing about his new roommate reads as threatening. Obviously this is a new roommate, he was able to unlock the door; Morbius vanished a while ago, and Jason got used to living alone again. So it’ll be an adjustment, but Jason can deal. Probably.

Jason’s been lounging in bed with a book, but he sits up to observe when his new roommate enters. The small white ball of fluff he brought home from the cat cafe has decided to curl up on Jason’s shoulder to watch the newcomer, tail swishing around the back of Jason’s neck. Jason frowns slightly as the new guy stands there, silent. Overwhelmed? Making his own assessment of the place? Hard to say.

Well, someone’s gotta break the ice here. Might as well be Jason.

“Kid? You OK?”

He doesn't physically start, but it's clear by his tone he's caught off guard as he turns towards the other person he had failed to notice in the room. It's not the first time he zones out like this so he recovers quickly enough.

"Shit, sorry." He raises both his hands in a practiced, placating gesture, unsure how threatening he might appear to another person at any given moment. Sometimes they think he looks dangerous and scary, sometimes they think he just looks weird. It's hard to say. "Mind just kinda wandered for a moment there."

He isn't offended at being referred to as "kid" either. He's used to it, even from those who don't appear to be much older than himself.

"Cute friend there." He nods his head towards the cat. Cats were always a good sign, he didn't care where he was. Of course, the presence of another just makes him miss Gizmo even more. But what can you do? He just has to have faith that Ash is going to take good care of him while he's gone.

Tim is leaning against the wall, eyeing their surroundings with distaste. This feels like a very clear message from the Head, and he is not amused. He's also not particularly inclined to do his best. They're almost certainly being observed, and he doesn't really want to give the Head any more information about himself than he has to.

So he probably shouldn't offer to try to pick the lock.

He pushes away from the wall and goes to have a look at the symbols.

"I guess there are too many combinations to try them all until we get it."

She takes a step back, giving him room to work.

"How many numbers do those things usually need, anyway?" She's familiar with the concept, but she's never actually seen one before. Where she's from the locks are all digital.

"Depends on how complicated you want to make your lock. Escape rooms are supposed to be fun, or so I hear." He does not sound convinced as he looks at the lock in question. There's room for a half a dozen symbols, and he's reasonably sure they're going to need all of them, since it is a combination lock.

"Six symbols, presumably in this space somewhere. I'm pretty sure we won't have to brute force it. That's not how this kind of thing is supposed to work."

"Weird idea of fun," she murmurs thoughtfully, turning now to the shelf. In her experience most people spent their free time partying, not working puzzles. But then, when your city is made up entirely of uglies you probably need a trickier way to entertain yourself.

The items on the shelf are nearly incomprehensible to her. Several sharp-looking circles with scalloped edges like thumbnail-sized bowls (bottle caps), something like a tablet with more old-fashioned push buttons than screen (a calculator), a dodecahedron made of little panels in bright colors (a variation on a rubik's cube), and other little bits and pieces that look entirely random. She picks up a bottle cap, raising an eyebrow at the word written on the colored side. She shows it to Tim.

"You guys usually leave your prisoners with sharp objects?"

What works for him? He doesn't even know. All he knows is that his body is still shaking.

"I just... I don't wanna be in an enclosed space I guess. I mean, buildings are bigger than test tubes, but still."

She nods her sympathy, staring out at the skyline again as she thinks. Suddenly she smiles.

"You up for some stairs? I think I know a place."

Stairs? Zack grins.

"Stairs are almost as good as squats. You can't neglect leg day. Sometimes I ran the whole way up the stairs from the ground floor to the SOLDIER offices on the 49th floor."

Yeah, Zack's just crazy, don't mind him.

Yeah, that... sounds like some crazy talk right there. Whatever. She'll let it slide. Instead she gets to her feet and scans the street.

"Wait here just a minute."

She spots what she's looking for and crosses the street into an alley next to an apartment complex. More or less out of view she parkours her way up to the first level of the fire escape and lowers the ladder before heading back to Zack's side.

"Follow me."

He'd been watching her move, and frowned when she disappeared into the alley, but soon he was moving to follow her. And when he saw the lowered ladder he stares in shock.

"Did you do that?"

He does, of course, climb the ladder at her guidance.

"A magician never reveals her secrets," she informs him as she makes her way up, definitely not trespassing or breaking any unspoken rules. It's a good few stories up to the top floor, which naturally doesn't extend to the roof. There's a lower roof right next to it, though, requiring only a few feet of shuffling across two inch detailing before she can hop up onto it. She turns back to offer him a hand if he needs it.

"Okay, you're fucking cool."

He had been following her rather quickly. While he locks a lot of Steph's nimbleness and her specific sorts of training, he's definitely got speed just from pure strength and chemical enhancements. But once he sees her move over that two inches, well... Wow. WOW.

Good thing he isn't overly proud. When Steph offers a hand he ABSOLUTELY accepts it. And once they're on the other roof he grins.

"Wow, you remind me of that weird dude. The one who does the climbing stuff. Can't remember his name."

She just laughs, revelling a little in the praise. She shouldn't be making herself conspicuous, but it's hard to care in an alternate universe where secret identities don't really matter.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment," she decides, and turns to look out at the city below them.

"I always liked heights. It's much harder for an enemy to climb up than it is for you to fall down. You know?"

"You should. His weirdness doesn't make you any less amazing," he laughs. Heights, though, he doesn't know how to explain. But he agrees at the whole concept. The beauty of the being up high. He pulls his knees up to his chest as he stares out at the night.

"Like I said, I worked in a tall building, on the 49th floor mainly. But it was, like, way taller than that. Not that I care. I... miss small places I guess. I told you I'm from a small village, right? I like being out in places like that. Except mountains. I don't miss mountains."

Tim turns to look and laughs a little. "Not usually. That tends to end up in more violence among inmates, and I have no doubt that that bottle cap could be sharpened into something completely deadly in the right-wrong hands. Not sharp enough to get through the bars, though, so that's probably at least part of a clue."

"Small places, huh? Can't say I'm really a fan." She settles on the ledge and swings her legs over, leaning out into the open air.

"There's nothing like the open sky for freedom."

Open skies. Zack frowns and looks up at the sky.

"I... saw it for a few months, traveling away from the place where me and a friend were held captive for some years. Experimented on. Escaping was SO hard."

"'Bottle cap'?" She turns the object over in her hand, trying to figure out how it would work. The scalloping seems really unecessary...

"Huh. Talk about 'rusty'." For a city run by a supposed super-computer this place is really old-fashioned. People really used to love their metals.

She sets the cap back among its peers and swipes the whole lot into one hand. The labels are all different, but each starts with a large, oversized capital letter. She starts rearranging them, wishing she could ping the city interface to run anagrams for her.

"You do things like this often? Funny little puzzles?" Since she remembers him saying he's only heard about 'escape rooms'.

"I wish I could show you. I got turned into a bird once, it was easily the best week of my life. Hawks and all."

He grins a little. "Sometimes. Not this specifically," he gestures around the room at their surroundings. "But I like having puzzles to work on. It keeps me from getting bored." He moves toward the bed and starts peeling back the blankets, shaking each one carefully as he does to dislodge any clues that might be hiding. "What about you? Do you like puzzles and things like this or nah?"

A slip of paper falls from a blanket and he bends to pick it up. "Ooh, a clue?"

"Puzzles aren't really a thing people do back home." Uglies generally preferred goofing off, and no Pretty ever took more than five seconds to figure something out. They just don't have the attention span.

"Uglies are always finding new ways to trick the city's minders, but that's usually electronic. Nothing like this." She moves over to the padlock again, comparing her findings to the shapes.

Tim blinks and turns toward her. "'Uglies?'" he asks as he unfolds the paper.

Mind the guards! Someone is always watching!

He rolls his eyes. No news there. Probably not a clue, then. Just flavor for the experience.

She blinks back at him for a moment, having taken a mental step into thin air by accident. Barely a year ago a world without Uglies, where everyone looked just like nature had made them, was her dream. Now she's living it and she can't imagine not having that frame of reference.

"Anyone that hasn't had surge. Surgery," she corrects herself, remembering the Rusty magazines she had devoured at the time. They didn't have the same slang.

"Not 16 yet," she adds for extra clarification.

He gives her a bemused look. "And everyone has surgery at sixteen?" he asks. That's interesting. "Is it like here--body mods? Or something else?" The question might be a little rude, but he is extremely curious, and they are supposed to be getting to know their fellow residents at these events.

He holds up the note. "Oh, and apparently we should beware of the guards. I don't know if it's just flavor for the scenario or a fail condition if we 'get caught' trying to escape."

Bird? Wow, Zack stares at her in shock. And maybe a touch of envy.

"So much better than getting turned into a frog. Or stone."

A bird is freer than that. Man, he wished he could be a bird.

"One big operation," she explains, turning her attention back to her bottle caps. She's on to something here.

"To make you beautiful, according to the Pretty Committee. But people are starting to be given a choice now." This is all pretty basic stuff in her book, like asking why the sky is blue.

"I'll keep an ear out for anyone coming."

Her tone is casual, as though she's explaining that water is wet and and fire is hot, but it's all Pretty different as far as Tim is concerned. Though--heh. Not that different. Sure, there's no systematic plastic surgery for everyone who turns sixteen, and no actual Pretty Committee, but there are plenty of people who chose to surgically alter their bodies to fit society's standards. Maybe it's not that different after all.

"Cool," he agrees, and goes back to sifting through the blankets. Nothing else useful appears, so he moves to check out the phone.

She snorts at that thought.

"And I thought falling out of the sky was bad. Being a frog is a good way to get squished."

It's a little more complicated than that, but Shay doesn't feel like explaining why she can't really afford to waste time in some halfy-Rusty city to a guy who's never even heard of the Operation. Instead she scoffs and turns to dump the bottle caps back on the shelf.

"I've got the third symbol, but that's it."

"You're not wrong. And there were a lot of things in the area that ate frogs, where I was growing up," Zack admits, chuckling. This... this is easier. She's helping. More than he'd expected.

"It's not easy to be here, in this place. The world is so familiar but so much worse. And I don't get to go home. So I have to make the best of the life they've given me."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

well, i know i had it coming …

Zack Fair | Final Fantasy VII | OTA

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Sal Fisher | Sally Face | will use any format

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Shay || Uglies || OTA

dorms.

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