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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Everyone behaving so far?"

Hank walks up to the... strange... bug man? Hello, strange bug man, and asks how his day watching drunk people fling heavy bladed objects has been. Asked in Hank's booming deep voice after approaching with the laziest casual swagger a lack of general fucks can buy. He knows at some point this would go from nerve-racking to a normal day but damn, until it did?

Hank's done with his beer for now. He's waiting for his company to be ready to go, and just kinda lingering. But, honestly? He's a cop, and this seems like a more stressful job than even beat work. He's not sure the owners knew what they were getting into when they opened this thing up.

At least at the moment he's not in uniform. He just looks like a concerned patron trying to make conversation with the poor 'idiot wrangler' for this establishment.

"The night is young," he replies with a smooth, deep rumble of his own voice. If he were phased at all by the surrounding chaos of drunks, flying axes, and general bar noises, he wasn't showing it.

Thane's attention is still on the axe throwers despite addressing the approaching man.

"Alcohol and sharp objects. I have my work cut out for me." Not that he has any doubts that he can face whatever troubles this occupation throws (maybe literally, depending on how things go) at him. Shepard had them risking their lives on an hourly basis and he did that gratis. But as he said, it's still early and he has only just started working here.

"I'm a cop from a city that was pretty shitty," at least Detroit started out shitty, it became less so. Marginally. The recent layoffs were not helping, and after one rough drug battle that he somehow managed to win he senses they might move to another. That's completely beside the point, though, other than he has a few stab scars here and there from it. "And even then? I don't envy you.

"I'm a cop here, too, so if you see anyone that's getting way too hostile with the equipment and not just fuck-stupid with it you can yell at me. I can help excuse 'em back to the station."

He's still bottom rung, but he's high enough to do an arrest and escort a guy to the station. And despite having developed a decent spare tire around the midsection during his years of depression, he can still restrain a perp with the... okay not the best of them. Connor is the best of them, in his opinion. But pretty high up there as far as humans go.

Ah, a cop. Thane supposes that it's luck an officer happened to approach him. It's good to know the faces of the law around this place. He does wonder how effective law enforcement is in such a twisting, confusing, city just gathering people from different corners of the universe.

His gaze finally shifts to the other man. It only takes one horizontal and vertical blink of his lids for him to take in and memorize the other's appearance, how he's dressed, how he's carrying himself, etc, so a long and uncomfortable stare isn't necessary.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." Not that Thane is going to be calling on the law whenever someone gives him trouble, but perhaps displaying exactly how good he is at dispatching said trouble in front of everyone for a simple job should be kept to a minimum. He's starting to realize all of his precautions may not be necessary, but it doesn't hurt to be safe for a while longer.

"And to whom would I be yelling?" It would probably be a good idea to get his name. Consider him a person of interest at the moment.

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.

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."

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.

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."

"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)

There's a pause from Thane so minuscule it would be easy to miss it, not properly conveying the scope of thoughts that rush through his mind in that moment. To think, whole planets could very well be 'kicking the bucket', as the human says, at this very moment. But he has to believe that Shepard can stop the Milky Way from succumbing to darkness. "The sentiment is appreciated."

Thane can't help but find the human slightly amusing, evident in the second rumble in his throat resembling a chuckle. "Kahje's surface is ninety percent water, but the drell homeworld is arid and dry. Our bodies function better in dry climates than in the humid one of Kahje." That would be a 'no' to the unasked question, assuming Hank is thinking drell to be some kind of water thriving species.

"At any rate, I would answer what I can to avoid any false assumptions." The only time he's ever been truly insulted by questions and assumptions are the ones people tend to make about the drell relationship with the hanar, mostly.

"Oh so they're like built in sunglasses." That's Hank's most brilliant assessment of the day. But he starts watching the ax-wielders himself. He'd asked for Heather to keep an eye out for a certain tattoo, and it occurs to him as people pull back their hands to throw those axes, one could probably see the traces of that blacklight tattoo. If they were keen enough.

He'll think about bringing it up.

"You know what concerns me just as much as people fuckin' this up? How many of these dickbags are doing just fine. Sorta blows your mind, huh? Some stupidly smart AI that can reach into other universes decides to grab people? And the people it brings in are all fuckin' talented at something. Makes me think that maybe this isn't about fuckin' genes, you know?"

He doesn't ask what Thane is talented at. He does note, however, the guy got a job where he might have to temper someone's HERE'S JOHNNY moment. Which doesn't say much, could be that he's a doctor, or just good in a fight. But it says at least that Thane probably isn't a boring desert frog.

"At least it makes your job easier. Theoretically."

"If that helps you." Brilliant indeed. Although: "Most drell do get an implant in their eyes that allow them to see the sophisticated bio-luminescence that the natives on Kahje use to communicate, so I suppose you are correct, in a sense."

But it has nothing to do with seeing better under water. At least Thane can tell the difference between someone speaking out of ignorance to a species they've never seen or heard of and someone who would rather not understand and instead go by their initial assumptions.

"Silver linings, I suppose." This job was the least of his worries, though. "I can't say the thought of anyone — AI or organic — herding us all together into a city that almost seems like an illusion itself sits well with me, regardless of intent."

He'll admit he has already thought of the Collectors kidnapping entire colonies to melt them down into a human soup, feeding them into that giant Reaper.

"Just never seen eyes like that. I'm kinda basic bitch guy from earth." The best they've got is androids, and even then? No big dark eyes.

"It doesn't do much for me, either. Not that we can do much about it. Gotta uh... not talk too loudly around some people about that kind of thing, though." Which is a strange thing for a cop to warn people about. But he remembers people got tased for being too questioning, the iterations bearing down on a fuckin' teenager asking about fighting factions in the city.

"Sometimes if you're overly curious around the city's robot patrols- the iterations -they can sorta insist you calm your ass down from basically doing fuck all. In fact if you have a problem I'd definitely call on the human members of the police department. With the robots, everyone gets the same equal treatment... in tasing."

It's strange indeed, which is why Thane surmises that the knock back for insubordination in the city must be pretty severe. "Fuck all" is vague but he can only guess how little you have to speak out to get tased. Or worse. There's always worse, even if it's not out in the open.

"I see. Unsurprising, but troubling nonetheless." There's finally a movement to break up Thane's rigid posture as he leans against the same counter as Hank, mostly so he can lower his voice a bit while still allowing the other to hear him among all the noise. He stretches his neck a bit as well. The frequency in soreness has risen in the past couple of days, though nowhere near as bad as it had been before he arrived. He wonders why the AI would bring a terminally ill drell to this place. "Considering they control our methods of communication, our housing — very few spaces to speak freely, I assume. I've tried searching the dormitories for bugs." But that's more of a force of habit thing.

"So did I." Considering the other people around, it doesn't mean much that Thane, or Tannor, had been looking for bugs. So many of them had a reason to fear surveillance.

"My partner's an android. He did a rudimentary scan but couldn't find anything. But even before he got here, I got so I'd only have conversations like this in loud places." He gestures around. He remembers surveillance was infinitely more difficult with background noise. As long as there was any reasonable doubt, they had an advantage.

"But I figure I should warn you since I think you're new. I don't want 'em tasing some drunk guy that just needs a night in the tank and isn't a real hazard. I'm lucky that the human portion of the PD doesn't mean much- and from what I gathered, 'human' kind of generically means 'person' here. There are a lot of people that look Earth-passing that haven't even heard of the fuckin' place. So there are a lot of different species there besides me if you need to switch it up."

Edited 2019-09-12 06:13 (UTC)

"I appreciate your warning."

Even if he had been being as careful as he had, it's good to hear firsthand of incidents where outspokenness was punished. Well, not good. But information that's handy to have.

"You say your partner's an android. Connor, I presume?"

He figures it's a safe assumption to make. Connor did say he was a detective.

"Ah. You met 'im." Hank snorts softly. "Yeah, we were partners back in Detroit." Before a convoluted series of events that means very likely Hank has lost his job (he knows he's lost his job). But that's fine.

"Now we're just sort of partners in the 'take care of a room and share expenses' way. And we work as patrol officers at the Dualis Police Department. So we've downgraded from detectives."

But, as he'd observed before, maybe he needed to. Maybe he needed the time to remember the guy he was, and not the emotionally wounded and jaded man he became.

"It is an upgrade from roomba technician, at the very least."

The city run by an AI giving the android a job title like that...when told Thane couldn't tell if it really was some kind of joke or cheap shot. At any rate...

"But you knew him before you arrived here. If you don't mind me asking, did the two of you come in around the same time? Is it uncommon for the Head to bring in people familiar with one another?"

"Oh no, he's that shit too. Fucker doesn't sleep so that's what he does, two jobs. I think he hates the roomba tech bit."

Hank snorts and shakes his head. "He doesn't sleep so he needs something else to occupy his time. He's easily bored. But no, they do that shit all the time. There was a whole batch of people from the same place." Then more hesitantly he adds, "You might run across some people that aren't technically 'real'. And that is a motherfuckin' trip."

That Gotham and X-Men thing? Still screwing with him.

A whole batch of people from the same place. He has to wonder if any of that is left to chance or if there's some kind of algorithm the AI uses to decide. How purposeful could it be if he, a dying (dead?) man, were brought here? As far as he's aware he's still inflicted with Kepral's syndrome. He can feel it. When he was recruited for Shepard's mission no one had known about his affliction. He finds it difficult to believe that the same could be said for the Head.

"Not technically real?" He inclines his head a bit, first visible indication of his confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"I mean people that are only in myths? In books? On shows as a fictional character? Guess what? Somehow this fuckin' place... either it makes 'em from scratch or it finds them. I don't know how. But it does. And they're real here, like everybody else."

He saw some of their memories. True, intense ones. That proved it all fucking real.

"Shit gets real weird here. You just gotta roll with it."

Thane was a very difficult man to completely stump, yet here he was, unable to find the proper response to the information being fed to him. Both sets of his eyelids blink several times before he can formulate a thought worth voicing.

"I suppose the common threads between the vast many universes out there are more numerous than I thought." Those commonalities were comforting at first, but he honestly can't quite pin down how he should feel about this news in particular. It's...strange.

"I admire your ability to...'roll with it'," he compliments, understanding the turn of phrase, at least.

"It's not easy. It brings dead people here and makes them alive..."

There's something a little distant there because the thought flickers through his mind again. Cole, his son. It's almost fuckin' offensive that somehow his DNA is somehow more valuable than his son's, when this fuckin' machine could bring him back from the dead.

"One guy showed up here covered in blood from having his throat slit and he was fine. That's definitely not a reason to get your hopes up 'cause lord knows I don't wanna give this place hope, but if someone shows up that you last saw in a casket, 'I'm not dead anymore' is a perfectly logical excuse.'"

Now that, he already knew. He can't imagine he's the only one who was recently brought back from death. Perhaps people like him were a target because they might not want to try and go back home — to escape whatever it was that had killed them.

It would be a reasonable strategy. Thane has reasons to consider both options. If he returns his sickly body would not allow him to aid Shepard the way he used to, which was the whole reason he stayed in Huerta Memorial Hospital and opted to spend whatever time was left with Kolyat. But it's a very tempting choice to try and return to see how is son is doing. Since awakening here it's been all he could think about. The state of the war and how it will affect the only family he left behind. And if...a rather big if, he presumes, they were telling the truth about their allowance to return in a year...what could he be going back to in a whole year?

Thane's gaze had trailed off to the far side of the room for a moment as these thoughts flooded his mind. "I have seen an organization bring back the dead for their own purpose. This person went on to do extraordinary things, but the organization's intentions were less than pure. Playing god is never a good sign."

Not that he wants to dash anyone's hope of seeing a deceased loved one again.

"I've never seen anyone do it before, but honestly I'm inclined to agree."

To be honest, though, Hank would gladly make any deal with the devil or wannabe gods or whatever to get his son back. He's a moral man by miles. He has a code of ethics even if not a code of calm. His endgame always has all victims in mind, and he knows where the guilty lie.

"Just thought I'd fill you in on that happy little bit of dramatics, too, in case you stumble across that one." Then he adds, "Oh, and uh... I was here for a couple of months alone before Connor showed up. And to him? I hadn't even been gone a day. So the time thing is pretty fucked, I can tell you that."

Axe hole

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