dualislogs | i've been bitten by the bug ...

i've been bitten by the bug ...

WHO: Open to all residents
WHAT: Inoculation Season, plus your regular monthly NAPs session
WHERE: Throughout the city, with NAPs held at The Ax Hole.
WHEN: Sept. 10-30 for plague shots and associated side effects; Sept. 10-14 for NAPs
WARNINGS: Please use if applicable!

So tell me, what do you prescribe for these symptoms?

Remember that awful plague that wiped out the city's entire original population? You know, the entire reason you've been brought here? Well, the medical science community of Dualis has been hard at work concocting a cure for as long as anyone can remember, with minimal results. But during the morning of the 10th, news of a breakthrough is announced is a special city-wide bulletin. All media channels are overtaken with this message, and alerts hit every citizen's phone. The best part? Science needs your help!

There's no formal approval process for new vaccines and medications, just a series of volunteer trials before it's determined whether what's being tested is effective. All residents are invited to participate in these trials, with a bonus of 200 extra duos as compensation for their time and possible suffering. Simply head down to your nearest MedDualis clinic and inform the MedDroids supervising that you're reporting for your civic duty. Participants will be given a quick, easy, and practically painless inoculation shot in the arm, and will walk out the door 200 duos richer. Neat, huh?

Participants will be warned that like all experimental drugs, there may be side effects. A non-comprehensive list of those possible side effects includes: minor appearance changes (hair/skin/eye color), enhancing or reducing senses (smell, taste, hearing, sight, etc.), sudden mild development of extranormal abilities (telepathy, super strength, super speed, etc.), the ability to share dreams (if you're not tired of that sorta thing after last month), and/or loss of control over abilities you already possess, or those abilities misfiring. Hey, at least death isn't included on this list!

Any intrepid Dualizen who comes down with a case of weirdness as a result of doing their civic duty will find that weirdness will wear off by the end of the month. The Head thanks you for your sacrifice!

Don't you feel the fever like I do?

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 juuuuust fine. But for the rest of you, the Head knows this has gotta 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 queries and receive results, or ignore the card and yeet yourself straight into a brand new friendship! 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?!

This month’s event is held at an exciting new establishment called The Ax Hole! The 'Hole is an indoor ax-throwing range plus bar plus mid-price grill-type restaurant, the first of its kind to find a home here in Dualis. You must be at least 18 to drink and/or throw axes, and if you are throwing axes, there is a limit of one drink per hour. The bartenders are very strict about enforcing this rule, and employees are available to give safety instructions on proper ax-throwing technique and supervise activities.

This is a family-friendly establishment, so anyone under 18 is welcome in the restaurant section and the viewing room between the restaurant and range to watch the ax-throwing action, but they are absolutely not allowed inside the range, even just to watch. In fact, anyone who wishes admittance to the range must sign a waiver stating that they understand the risks of participating and agree to hold the Ax Hole free of liability in the event of any accidents that cause injury or death.

If that hasn't scared you off yet, come on down and meet your new neighbors! Oh, and do try to exit with at least as many fingers and limbs as when you entered, OK?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Loki attended this first NAPs session readily enough. When one finds themselves suddenly stranded in an as yet unknown reality with more questions than actual answers, one seeks out friends. That they were required to do so was something Loki was doing his best not to think about, and instead decided to try just enjoying the evening. The 'ax throwing' at this particular establishment seemed a pale reflection of the gratuitous violence so common to his people, but it was amusing nonetheless.

He hadn't paid Hank much attention at first, though he did watch the older human (at least he assumed the man to be human) long enough to memorize his face. He'd directed his attention to other things, but Hank commentary caught his attention. He references are lost on him, but not the mental image and he laughs, crossing his arms.

"But wouldn't it be Hilarious?"

Those eyes actually remind him more of amphibian eyes, now that he has a chance to look at them. And then they blink sideways.

Fuckin' neat. There are bonuses to living in this city. Seeing wierd reptile/frog/bug men fending off drunken ax-wielders is one of them.

"Hank Anderson." He offers his hand, then, awkwardly, adds a, "Shaking hands is okay, right?" He's not proposing marriage? Insulting his mother? Saluting frog Hitler? Come on, warn him if he's fuckin' it up, sir.

Loki, after his arrival, was in and out most days at the dorms, so focused was he on getting to know not only the known areas of his new home, but also the unknown. He'd spent the first few days, though, mapping the dormitory itself, in as much an effort to see whether or not it, like the rest of the city, exhibited subtle changes, but to no avail.

Today, he was actually reclining in the lobby with a book, on astronomy if anyone's curious, but he looks up as Thane passes through. This is a new one, a race he's never seen, and his eyebrows raise out of curiosity if nothing else. He slides a bookmark between his pages and closes the book, raising from his seat, approaching this stranger with a warm smile.

Allies are always better than enemies, after all.

"Hello. I don't believe we've met."

That actually gets the lowest of chuckles out of him, along with the faintest of smiles, as he reaches out to shake Hank's hand with a firm grip. This wasn't his first shake, clearly.

"Shaking hands is fine." Having learned a lot of what they did from the hanar, drell didn't really do handshakes normally. But Thane has been around enough of the galaxy and humans specifically to have picked up the greeting when necessary. "Tannor Nuara. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

A fully sober Hank might just squint, disagree on default, because naturally someone taking an ax to the head isn't funny. But here? A little tipsy? There really is a very good chance someone could make a full bullshit recovery from ax-to-the-fucking-head disease. Probably why a place like this could pass any sort of regulatory restrictions.

So he makes a so-so motion.

"I wouldn't envy the waiting staff when they had to clean that shit up. But give 'em a month and I'm betting brain detail is gonna at least be a bi-weekly thing."

Hank is a notable pessimist. Sure every asshole here in the Axhole is ninjaing it the hell up and whacking those targets like Daniel Day Lewis's stunt stand-ins there's gonna be just as many office secretaries that 'accidentally' nail their supervisor.

Anyway. "Nice to meet you. I'm Hank Anderson." He offers his hand up to Loki to shake, friendly as a crotchety fuck as can be to a guy that just expressed enthusiasm to beaning someone with a blade. You know. When in fucking Rome, he guesses.

NAPs (Sept 11th)

There is absolutely no way he's going to be allowed into the throwing range, and even though he's not entirely sure he wants to try it, Ven's still kind of annoyed when the first thing anyone says to him when he arrives at the Ax Hole is that they won't give him a waiver so don't bother asking for one. Okay, fine, he looks young, but in reality he's a lot older than he looks! ...Kind of. In a way. Maybe. That really is splitting hairs and he knows it.

After managing to talk the bartender into giving him a fairly hefty sandwich to take to the tables - he's hungry and this is a restaurant, after all - Ven scopes one out that doesn't have anyone sitting at it and takes a seat, waiting for someone to take the other. When they do, he puts down his sandwich with a smile, wiping his hands on his napkin, and gives a small laugh. "Sorry about that - it's kind of a mess, isn't it?"

Inoculation (Sept 14th - end of month)

He's trying to get better about this, he really is, so Ven doesn't immediately run out and get the injection when it's announced. And since there isn't anything like world peace or his friends' safety hanging in the balance this time, there's absolutely no reason to do so without taking time to consider the angles. Still, it's a fairly foregone conclusion for both him and Aqua that they want to do whatever they can to help, both just for helping's sake and so that everyone can go home as soon as possible, and so a few days after it's announced Ven heads into the clinic before one of his delivery shifts to get it done. It pinches a bit, but it's over fast and he's out the door to start work within ten minutes.

(He immediately uses the money to buy a new telescope, as good a one as he can afford.)

The trouble starts the next day, though. Or, well, not exactly trouble, but when he wakes up, there's more light in the room than he's used to, and it might well be disturbing his new roommate. His first thought is that he or Steve forgot to draw the curtains before they went to sleep last night, but a quick look proves that to be untrue, and as he wakes up more it's immediately obvious the light is coming from him. Specifically, chest-height, a shining ball right in the center of his body, over his heart, though the dim radiance extends through all of him, right to his fingertips and toes, and even his hair. The shirt and shorts he sleeps in muffles it somewhat, but a few frantic minutes of scrambling (sorry, Steve) prove that only excessive layers of blankets blocks it completely. Ven finally sighs and gets out of bed, since he otherwise feels fine and he was warned something was possible. This could only be the result of that shot.

For the rest of the month, Ven gets on with his routine with that glow to him, unable to block it completely even with his customary layers of clothes. You might see him on the roof, where he likes to sit and observe the city day or night, sometimes with his new telescope and sometimes without. Or maybe you ordered from dualiseats and he's your delivery boy. He also heads to the zoo at the beginning of the second week so he can see all the animals there, even if he's not thrilled they're in cages, and there's a fair bit of general wandering around the city since he's still trying to see if there's a pattern to the shifting layout. In any case, the light isn't going away, and he's just dealing with it, because what else can he do?

Edited 2019-09-11 15:54 (UTC)

So far with a quick glance around the lobby he can spot at least twelve vantage points, three "faults" that he could possibly take advantage of, and four places in which he could reasonably stay out of sight. This was all in the event some kind of fire fight break out, of course, and he was thinking more in specification to himself and his skills. Not to mention what he can see plainly. The downside to being in a completely unfamiliar area with technology that's relatively different than what he's used to (possibly) is that he simply can't account for all of that yet. Alas, that's all he has to go on until he learns more about this city.

He had indeed noticed the man sitting comfortably with a book (to which he briefly scanned the cover out of curiosity — astronomy, interesting), but continued on with his little walk through. He also paid attention to the sound of a book shutting and footsteps moving closer. And yet when he's greeted he looks relatively surprised. Or at the very least, he tries not to look as if he had a critical eye of everything within a fifteen foot radius.

He nods his head in greeting. "We have not." It's still an odd feeling to get used to people approaching at this frequency. Ironically, he spent most of his time reading like the man had been a moment ago — or mediating — as opposed to talking. Talking about murder, assassinations, and saving the galaxy notwithstanding. Thankfully Shepard gave him decent practice. He's been better at it since. "Then again I've only just arrived a few days ago. Tannor Nuara."

He then takes his hand and shakes it in a firm grip. Not showing off, exactly. It's just a habit from boisterously greeting people at police functions, back in the day when he had the energy for that kind of thing. When he was glad to see new people on the force and wanted to clap his hands around theirs and show them he valued their service.

Feels like an era ago.

He settles against a counter, waiting for particular parties to get done with their ax-handling.

"It okay if I ask what you are? I mean, as far as I know you could be a human that had a confusing thing happen. I've seen a lot since I got here."

Like X-men.

And Batfriends.

And a fake vampire.

Finally, something Aleifr found familiar.

The Ax Hole doesn't have the same rowdy atmosphere of the Ascommani village and, to Aleifr's disappointment, the drink didn't flow anywhere near as freely, but it felt damned good to have steel in his hand again, even if it wasn't his steel.

Though he could have done without the bloody lecture on how to handle an axe. He understands that these workers are doing what they're told, and that the majority of the people here don't know their way around a weapon, but he'd had an axe in his hand from the time he was learning how to read. If the folks working here had known him from a hole in the ground, he'd have found it borderline insulting.

He has a better time of it once he's past that, though, despite the fact that he's only allowed one drink an hour for some damn reason. It takes him a throw or two to get used to the heft of these axes. They're smaller than he's used to, looking almost like toys in his massive hands. Because of that, he pulls his throw too much the first time. Undershoots his target, by just a little. The following throw is an over-correction, but the third? The third strikes true and buries itself in the bullseye.

He's feeling confident after that. The man who gave him the lecture had told him that the little green dots above the target on either side were called the 'clutch'.

Aleifr's axe landed in the middle of the one on the left on his fourth throw.

He might feel a little slower than he used to be after two months of relative inactivity, but his aim was still true. He was pleased with that.

As Hank settles back against a counter Thane returns his diligent gaze back to the axe throwers. Luckily it didn't look as if anyone were in danger of losing a finger, or making someone else into a moving target, which he half expected, admittedly.

"I take no offense to your questions. Where I come from my people rarely leave our planet. It's common to be asked questions." A sort of reassurance that his curiosity won't be viewed as offensive. People being more curious about what he is helps distract from who he is.

"I am a drell. We come from a planet called Kahje, though our ancestors originated from Rakhana until the planet swiftly died."

This new world was a wonder, to be sure, but not in a way one would expect. He'd come to this community building session out of necessity, it was true, but also to satisfy a curiosity. He could watch all these people go about their daily lives, yes, but given the restrictions this plane seem to have on the fabric of reality, namely how little he was actually capable of conjuring, solitude wasn't the wisest course of action. No, he was going to have to get to know these people.

How convenient that they all but required it. Suspect, certainly, but going along with the status quo until answers were more obvious. It was, of course, impossible to know how long that would take. Seeing someone eager to make his acquaintance, or at least the acquaintance of the others in attendance, he takes a seat, eyebrows raising at the question posted.

"Oooh, good question! Let me see..." He looks thoughtful, tapping his fingers on the table top. "Would you care to clarify? Do you mean my universe or simply my homeworld?"

There's a bright smile on her face when she looks at him. Oh this was all very exciting and interesting. And fun. Mostly fun. There were tiny flashes of sadness squished in between the fun, but she was trying to focus on the fun. She told herself to focus on the fun and the people and maybe the things they needed to find out. Whatever those were.

"No, I wasn't." She tilts her head and looks slightly amused. People always seemed confused with teleportation. Or just confused with her in general. Flighty and disjointed. That was how people always thought about her. "It's easy to be here then there. And faster."

Connor rolls his eyes a little more dramatically than needed just to get his point across. The point being that Hank's ridiculous - and he's OK with that.

"Why not?" He's still offering the handle. "Come on. I'll show you."

He can't just come to an axe-throwing place and not throw axes, come on. Besides, Connor wants to see him to do it - and he's not above doing the little trick with the head tilt and the eyes.

Stick with what works.

"Ah, shit. Not enough condolences to go out for a whole planet kicking the bucket." Hank's a big gruff guy with a large heart. He genuinely is sad to hear about the death of a whole planet.

"I guess I just don't wanna jump to too many conclusions and assume you won't be offended by too much interrogation." He's getting better about that. "And that includes a bunch of 'so can you see underwater pretty easy?' national geographic bullshit."

Don't worry. He didn't watch Star Trek. He won't ask about his mating habits. Unless the subject comes up and only possibly even then.

Edited 2019-09-11 06:49 (UTC)

This son of a bitch. He sees what he's doing. Hank actually looks a little mad as he sits down his drink loudly and points at him.

"I see you, you and your fuckin' big brown eyes. Givin' me that goofy puppy dog shit. You're fuckin' heinous." Weaponized woeface is what Cyberlife programmed him with.

As he's saying this, though, he's moving to Connor's side, taking the ax, and holding hit awkwardly.

"Alright. Show me how to position my hand."

NAP

[ To put it in the mildest possible terms, this is not where Erik wants to be. He wants to be in Paris. Roadblocks, both personal and professional, had finally cleared from the path of a possible future he hadn't allowed himself to consider a possibility in decades.

Of course he got waylaid. Did he ever truly expect otherwise? That he would be allowed to just be happy for a day? An hour? A few minutes before it is rudely ripped away from him yet again? To say his mood is sour is another mild statement. The additional insult of asking him to volunteer for medical trials is just icing on the cake. (He, of course, refuses to volunteer. And examines himself thoroughly for any telltale pinprick scabs that might indicate his refusal was ignored.)

Brooding won't help anything, as attractive as it may be. If he's ever going to get out of here, he's going to need allies. The more the better. So this silly event may prove itself useful. He leans to the side in his seat, ankle crossed over knee, the only indication of his agitation taking the form of softly tapping the index card on the table as he waits whoever might approach him next. He's not exactly smiling, but his expression is carefully neutral. Maybe even a little friendly. (Though probably only if you know him, and not well enough to realize what an act it is.) If it's a woman who approaches, he will rise from his seat. Edie Lehnsherr made sure her boy had manners, after all. ]

Ah, hello. Erik Lehnsherr.

[ No matter who approaches, he will offer a hand to shake. ]

Of All the Gin Joints

[ Erik stands behind the bar, wearing a white t shirt and dark jeans, drying a glass with a white bar towel. They always come out of the dishwasher still damp. He has nothing better to do, it's still early in the shift. And he hates it when the glasses get water spots on them.

Once the initial shock of his menial work assignment had passed, Erik saw the benefits in it. No better way to get information, or even allies. How reliable that information and allies could be variable, but it was an in all the same. He looks up when somebody enters. ]

Welcome to Rick's Café Americain. [ That is not the name of the bar, but he added the reference to amuse himself. ] What can I get for you.

Two's Company (Closed to Thane)

[ After a long day of adjusting to his new circumstances, and socializing, and work, Erik trudges to his room. He's not about to say he's getting too old for this, but he is.

At least he wears it well. To the point that he wonders if it isn't just Raven who ages at a slower rate than the general population, but all of them. Not a question he can really answer right now.

The accommodations are spartan but hardly the worst Erik has ever experienced. He enters the room and sees his roommate for the first time. He's green, which is unexpected but nothing that would shock Erik.]

Don't worry, I'll keep to my side of the room.

[ He drawls, his tone dry. He then pulls off his shirt because it smells of beer. ]

"Oh!" a very intense glare flashes on her face very briefly. "that's not nice at all! Sometimes people just need time." Watching someone get shocked just for not answering questions in time juts made Arkady impotently angry. The worst part was there was nothing she could do about it. It just served as a subtle reminder that there was something very wrong with this place.

"My name is Arkady." She gave the other girl a faint smile. "Some of my friends are really good at drawing. What do you usually draw?"

[Yondu's been consumed by heavier thoughts. Can't help it. He's trapped here, and the longer he's trapped here? The more he find himself disconnected from the man he was. Yondu the Ravager, Yondu the Pirate, Yondu the fucking mechanic. And sometimes? Sometimes he needs a drink.]

[But when he comes into this bar, the guy makes a crack about the name of the bar and Yondu's blue face twists up in a special sort of confusion.]

....I reckon it could be Rick's Fine Shoes an' I wouldn't care so long as it had booze, too. Give me the strongest ya got. Don't worry, my anatomy matches enough with y'alls you can make a good guess.

[He gestures loosely to Erik. Give him an adventure, thanks.]

Edited 2019-09-11 08:48 (UTC)

"I used to have a lot." None of them were very wholesome or good hobbies. One could say that as a kid Arkady had been a wild child. Almost all of the FreakAngels had been. Maybe that was what happened to kids that looked so visibly different than everyone else. Or maybe it'd been because most of their parents had been on the wrong side of the fence. That was then and this was now though and her hobbies had changed.

"Now, hmm," she tilted her head to the side and blinked her purple eyes as she thought about what she'd classify as a hobby. "I help with the garden sometimes so we can have fresh strawberries and flowers! I like helping with the flowers." The way she said flowers had a childlike excitement to it. "Mostly I just experiment though. Someone had to" The way she'd seen it she was already pretty off. That meant that there might not be much harm in pushing the limits of her powers anyway. It wasn't like it could have made her more off. Hopefully. "What about you?"

The girl - she's bald, purple-eyed, and it's a striking combination of features - smiles at him brightly and looks downright amused at his confusion. Like appearing somewhere out of nowhere is perfectly normal and it's Connor's confusion that's out of place here. He crouches to pick up his dropped axe and clasps it between his hands behind his back out of the way, as if he didn't just drop it like an idiot. But at least they've established that she did appear out of nowhere and it's not that Connor's whole brain just misfired.

"OK," he says cautiously, the LED slipping back to yellow - less freaked out, more trying to decide what just happened, "but how did you do it? What did you do?"

Connor's not bothering to stifle his grin at Hank's annoyance; he can be as mad as he wants - he's still put his drink down and taking the axe, so Connor wins in the end. (The fact that Hank has noticed what colour his eyes are totally escapes him - he's noticed Hank's as well, it doesn't seem like a big deal)

"I always succeed in my mission," he murmurs. Possibly the worst joke he could make, but he's so gleeful all of a sudden it just bursts out of him.

"OK, I was watching other humans do this and it looks like they find it easier with both hands." He shifts to face Hank, grabs his free wrist and plants his hand on the handle. The axe blade is close to his own chest this way, but Connor's not paying attention to it - even if he thought for a second Hank would do something, there's nothing he could do at this angle and distance. "Somebody mentioned it was like holding a baseball bat, so think of it that way."

Connor's never seen baseball, but Hank knows...sports. The general monolith of 'sports'.

Hank mutters something incomprehensible even to an android at him, just some bitchy generic grumbling.

"Baseball bat, huh? Alright. Yeah. I can do that." He positions both his hands like on a bat. "So I'm guessing overhand and not to the side? Fuck it. Get behind me."

He'll do sideways first, so he knows Connor's not in the way. The words oddly familiar, considering the times he's said them to keep his partner out of harm's way.

"It's a game." She surmised aloud.

Naminé had an interest in games though she didn't think she had the physical strength or dexterity that ax throwing required. Her frame was slender and her body was new. She could learn, in time, but today she was resigned to watch.

"I wonder if it's fun." All of her thoughts and feelings were evident in the thoughtful expression that took command of her features. Bright blue eyes looked away from the game and up to Vincent. "Are you going to try it? I think you could win." She smiled brightly. "I would cheer for you."

Naminé shook her head gently from side to side. "It's... alright." It wasn't the first time she'd faced physical abuse because she wasn't doing something right. She'd thought she'd be free of that with the Organization's dissolution but maybe there are some things that she'll never escape. The thought sends an uncomfortable shiver through her frame.

"It's nice to meet you Arkady." She smiled, ignoring the residual discomfort of the shock. "I like your name. It is very pretty."

Drawing was something that Naminé loved to talk about. It was the one aspect of her life that she was sure of and it was one of the few ways that she could express the way she felt. "I draw people. Friends. Sometimes worlds or things I've seen. I could draw you too, if you wanted me too."

She suddenly felt awkward, wondering what exactly she should do to make friends. She wanted them, desperately so, but Naminé had no experience or practice making friends.

"A pleasure to meet you, Tannor. Sorry you got stuck in the perfect sort of place to see humans making a fool of themselves. If you're lucky, maybe you'll get to see it from other species too."

Which of course is a quiet, and hopefully tactful, way to invite a species identification from the man. And quiet enough that if it were to be ignored, well no offense could be taken because David hadn't outright asked. He's careful like that.

"You any good with throwing axes, or is this another instance of giving a job to someone that they really aren't up for?"

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Page 2 of 29

i've been bitten by the bug ...

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the dorms

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NAPs and Inoculation

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Aleifr | Ax Hole | OTA

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Erik Lehnsherr | XMCU | OTA (+1 closed)

NAPS

Of All the Gin Joints

NAPS

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NAPs

NAPS

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