Midnight, not a sound from the pavement

[headandhand]

WHO: All residents of Dualis + special guest stars
WHAT: Strap in, kiddos, it’s a ~memshare~
WHERE: In your head. Or, you know. Everywhere you go to escape that.
WHEN: August 15-24
WARNINGS: Don’t forget these if they’re applicable!

It’s been a few months, Dualis, how are you settling in? New arrivals, we know it’s sudden, but we hope you’re making new friends already and settling in well! You’re all gonna fit in juuuust fine around here.

Things have calmed down after the supposed terrorist attacks during the Dualis Days celebration, and there’s still no news about that strange network broadcast. But maybe that’s for the best, right? See, the Head really does have everything under control.

But speaking of heads…

Over the course of these next few days, yours might be feeling a little funny. Maybe you just aren’t quite feeling like yourself. Or there’s an ache that just won’t quite go away. Or maybe you’re perfectly fine! Which is completely optimal, honestly.

Except--that memory you suddenly have. Is that really yours? And what about those fainting spells that seem to come with premonitions...or are you perhaps remembering something you repressed long ago? You’d probably remember something like this, though, wouldn’t you?

It’s perfectly natural to be concerned. However, if you approach your friendly neighborhood MedBot or clinician, they’re going to be pretty stumped. It appears there's nothing really wrong with you, but hey, here's some mild painkillers if you want them. And if you try and consult the Head, all it’ll be able to do is give you it’s most sincere condolences. It seems that there may have been some complications with the transfer process, but these should definitely wear off soon! In the meantime, why not visit your local clinic for a sedative and some painkillers?

Good luck, denizens. Looks like you’re in for a bumpy week or two...

[[As a reminder, these memory shares can happen at any point in time during the span of the event, not just when your characters are sleeping! You're also welcome to have them experience no side effects at all, all the way up to fainting spells and headaches a la Cordelia circa season 2 of Angel. Feel free to reach out to your friendly neighborhood mods if you have any questions!]]

Comments

[sociallychallenged]

When Hank's leaving before Connor, it might be possible for Connor to catch Niles saying something to Hank, and for Hank to flip him off again. And in the gap they're not together, Hank goes home, changes into something casual (clothes that are, unfortunately, right up his usual alley), and goes to that bar to wait.

He has time to order whiskey and watch the band setting up for a while before Connor shows up. It's not exactly a classy place, but it's larger than Jimmy's, and the patrons seem to be less dead on their feet. Most people seem to be here to unwind after work and get away from the youngsters on the boardwalk.

He has a stool saved for Connor when he gets there.

He almost makes a catty comment like, Probably a lot homier without a 'No Androids' sign, huh? but he doesn't. Not just because he wants Connor to not have to think about it, but because he's torn between a, 'He looks good in that' thought and a 'God I'm fuckin' fat' thought.

"Nice clothes. You look good." He offers, gesturing to the seat.

[notalive]

He actually did catch himself looking for a No Androids sign on the way in; not that he was bound to pay attention to it - he was one of the few models that didn't have to pay attention to such things - but the signs told him what kind of atmosphere he was about to walk into.

And the atmosphere is lighter than Jimmy's, and doesn't change in the slightest for Connor walking in. Not a single person notices him. It's mostly the band setting up that holds his attention when he walks in initially, since he's never seen one. He's still looking at it as he takes the seat Hank offers him.

"Thanks," he says, looking down at some of the first clothes he's ever chosen himself to put on - not for any particular reason or because he was told to, just because. "There are a lot more rules to dressing than I realised so I thought I'd just start simple."

And, looking at Hank, "And you finally look normal."

Actually not in uniform, is what he means, but then he scrunches his face a little and half winks.

"Sort of." Because nobody in that bar is wearing a shirt quite like Hank's.

He gets the bartender's attention and orders a whiskey on the rocks - then looks at Hank. "That's OK for you, right?"

[sociallychallenged]

"You called it," Hank jokes, as if he's not at all predictable. But his turn to make an unusual request of the bartender himself. Luckily he's been here often enough, and has tipped well enough, that he's not terribly appalling for asking this.

"I want nine shot glasses with just a tiny, I'm talkin' a fuckin' thimbleful of these in each, alright?" He pulls out a notepad from his back pocket. That old standard of real paper, and starts writing a variety of things off the top of his head.

PORT
WHITE WINE
RED WINE
BAILEYS
KAHLUA
CINNAMON WHISKEY
RAKIA
VODKA
TRIPLE SEC

He passes the note over to the bartender, who gives it the most flummoxed of looks, and Hank's compelled to add. "My partner here can taste but he shouldn't swallow."

"Sucks to be you," the bartender announces, before going off on his merry way to do fulfill this fucked up order. A confused jostle of his head and Hank settles in.

"I've been writing down whatever I've been rememberin'. Figured we can reference it later if we need to."

[notalive]

Connor's plan had been to order a whiskey, then switch glasses with Hank as soon as he was done - that way Connor would have something to mess around with in his hands, and wouldn't look like he stood out. He thought of it on the way there while he was - for what seems like the dozenth time in as many days - thinking about how he was spending a lot of time in places that sold food and drink considering he didn't need either, just because humans do all their socialising around them.

So he's peering in bemusement at Hank as well as he goes through this complicated process with nine shot glasses and nine drinks scribbled on a piece of paper. (And as he assumes the bartender's comment is directed at Connor himself, he thinks nothing of it)

"You really thought this out, didn't you?" he says, genuinely surprised and more than a little pleased about it. Connor had pictured just...Hank having a drink. Maybe they'd walk home, stop at a food place. His idea of this had been really simple - just Hank's company was more than good enough.

[sociallychallenged]

[Continued here.]