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Priority Log - Part 1
Log 02 Priority (Part I)
The Mine Car
As characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new message…
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> OVERRIDE: TUTORIAL MODE DEACTIVATED.
> OBJECTIVE:
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NAME: The Mine Car
TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENT: Gothic era
DANGER LEVEL: High
GENERAL STINKINESS: High
COMMON DENIZENS: Humans, ornithrops, bearkin
CUISINE: Peasant gruel, bird seed
There is no sender. Or objective?
But that's fine, probably! The car itself is completely functional, and features a fully developed society.
Passengers will arrive in this car and be immediately greeted by a fog that chills them to their core. The car around them is vast, and yet deathly silent. They'll find themselves starting off in a forest of petrified wood, the ground hard and unyielding underneath their feet, with flora and fauna in various stages of decay around them. While the fog around them is thick, the lights of a nearby village can still be seen from a distance, and as they travel, the dirt road will give way to cobblestone.
Eventually they'll be greeted with a signpost, welcoming them to the town of MINECRAFTIA.
While Minecraftia's denizens are harrowed and distressed, they're quick to warn the passengers traveling through of the ailment, a mysterious illness that is plaguing their town. It's been leaving even healthy youths bedridden, and while the town mayor has passionately declared that he will find a solution, it appears that there's no cure in sight.
Locations
Minecraftia is a foreboding little town, even in the daylight, with murky skies above and fog blanketing the roads. Still, the denizens persist through their daily routines, and won't stop the passengers from exploring.
Clinic: The town's only clinic with the town's only doctor. It's a small, rickety building that operates all hours of the day. Between the rapid spread of sickness and the steady depletion of supplies, it's a grim place to be nowadays. Anyone healthy who visits might be roped in to help, and those who look ill will be quarantined with an uncomfortable bedroll and thin blanket.
Cemetery: Located on the outskirts of town, the cemetery is home to dead bodies, even deader earth, and a deadpan gravekeeper. The exit door is here in a flower-covered plot, but cannot be opened.
Chicken House: A barnyard building home to the town's chickens. Lately they've been more worked up than usual, and taken to flying the coop and finding refuge by digging their claws into the scalps of bystanders. Agitating one chicken may cause a whole flock to descend on you!
The Dark Woods: The village is surrounded by what was once lush woods, but the trees now stand dark and eerie, an unusually thick fog rolling between them. While there are some of the usual, woodland creatures chirruping in the dense silence, they're hard to find. Monsters, meanwhile, are much more common.
The Mines: In the heart of the woods are entrances to the town's expansive system of mines. Stepping inside shows that the dirt and stone is laced with beautiful gems and minerals, but passengers will be shooed away by miners if they try to explore any deeper. It seems there's several dangerous mine shafts underfoot, as well as past attacks by what seems to be mole monsters.
Mayor's Mansion: The largest building in Minecraftia, situated on a hill. While Mayor Chadsef's staff welcomes guests, they will be cautioned not to explore past the lobby, which just smells a little like cleaning chemicals thanks to a diligent maid crew.
Denizens
Players may use denizens as convenient in threads, as well as these NPCs, except for the Mayor. He's a very busy man!
Madam Vermeer: The Madam is a human extremely afraid that she'll die before seeing her son marry. Which means that she is hunting the streets for eligible men and women, and whisking them in droves away into her mansion to be made over, trained in the art of serving, etc. before presenting them to her son.
Cassy Cassatt: Cassy is an ornithrop and the owner of the chicken house. She's shorthanded nowadays, but business-savvy enough to prey on considerate bystanders. She'll rope anyone she sees into helping out, whether it's collecting eggs, feeding or breeding.
Turner: Turner is a bearkin, and one of the nurses at the clinic. He's taken to drinking his weight in mead whenever he's off the clock, and it's not uncommon for his body to be seen unconscious on the road. He'll try to flee or swat blindly if anyone tries to help him, but he really does need help getting home.
Chadsef: The mayor of Minecraftia, who is notably wealthier than the rest of the citizens. He's young and inexperienced, but carries a Birds of Economics degree, and is determined to bring jobs to the town. He'll just need to make sure people are alive to do them first!
Other
The longer that passengers remain in the car, the more they'll learn, and soon they'll realize the following:
- They are not immune to the illness. They can't determine what it is that triggers it. At first it's a sense of fatigue, then hunger and irritability. Then, the numbness will begin, starting in their extremities and spreading up their limbs, until that numbness turns into pain. Eventually that pain will lead to madness, a state of delirium where they begin to behave erratically, endangering themselves and those around them.
- There is something in the woods. Though the passengers saw nothing when they arrived in the woods, at night they can hear growling. Venturing outside will reveal grotesque creatures emerging from the fog, rampaging into the town and tearing flesh and stone with their massive claws. These creatures appear rabid, familiar but warped, and they swarm the town with no regard for their own safety or benefit. Examples: (1) (2) (3) (4)
- Corpses are disappearing. Despite deaths, the cemetery isn't seeing any more business. Rumour has it that a certain wealthy denizen has been paying to have the corpses taken away. But to where, and why, remains unknown…
Numbers
Numbers! Everyone starts with one that glows on their bodies — as a fun thread mechanic, we suggest they're somewhere visible, but it's up to you!
Because while this is not IC knowledge yet, numbers are determined by how troubled your character is. This may be based on their past actions and crimes, but also alienating habits, regrets, personality flaws, trauma, etc — a higher number does not necessarily mean they're a bad person, but it may signify a difficult time in their life, or substantial personal issues.
As passengers enter this car, they'll notice that their numbers may begin to change in response to certain actions and decisions. The general rule is that numbers change as characters work through their issues. If they make a decision that serves to better themselves, their number will decrease. But if they make a decision that is ill-intentioned, their number will increase. Players can change their number as they see fit going forward.
OOC Notes
Exploration: Players may submit on-going threads here to get a short mod tag with further discoveries in any given location. Characters can potentially earn items or clues as to the car's objective this way. Please limit your explorations to one per player; we will let you all know if we have the capacity to do more!
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no subject
[That is definitely a shriek-]
Chill the fuck out.
[Rex hates that after all this time and all that training, he is still helpless once again. He had been excited back then to finally be free of it all. Poverty. Hunger.
A destiny, dark, and supposedly set in stone.]
I don't know where I am! And I'm pretty fuckin' sure I've been kidnapped.
[The beads, however, now thoroughly turned to ash...
Fall from his hand as it stops charging.]
no subject
Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but you're not wrong. Lot of us have been.
[ With the burning hand seemingly disarmed for now, Vidal sidles a few steps closer like approaching a wounded animal, something scared and confused and volatile. ]
Hey, I know you got questions, but that shit looks serious. [ With a gesture to the popped shoulder. ] Let me see it?
no subject
[Rex growls in retaliation.
This may sound like a bluff, but it is indeed true. His wounds, especially as there are no severe lacerations, will heal on their own, disappearing over a rapid timeline in comparison to his normal, non-super counterparts.]
Whoopedy-fuckin-doo. So my ass's gone and gotten got by yet another evil organization! Well, that's just wonderful! Uh-mazing. But this time, I'm not a kid anymore, and I refuse to do their fuckin' dirty work. If they want a hired hand, they can go ahead and kill me first.
Why do you care, anyway? What do you want from me? 'Cause I've got nothin'. Nothin' you wouldn't have to fight me for, 'cause I'm not handin' anything over without one of those.
no subject
Why do I care? I see a kid with a busted fuckin' shoulder and I wanna help fix the shoulder? All right, fuckin' sue me.
[ Heal thyself, kid. Because this? Is still a kid. This six foot toddler over here, you throw a tantrum like one, you get treated like one. ]
I don't want shit. You wanna get off the conclusion trampoline, I can try and give you some answers, otherwise? I'm sorry for interrupting your little graveyard arson session, okay?
no subject
[He grins wickedly, remembering someone in particular.]
Seems to love to call me that! Until they wanna use me, or uh, need my help. Fine, take a look! If you try anything funny, I'll just blow your face off.
Wouldn't be the first time!
[He'll let Vidal come closer, but will be watching him carefully.]
no subject
I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.
[ Anyway, at least the guy’s stopped blowing enough physical and metaphorical hot air to chance a couple more steps forward after a moment’s glowering. It’s a tense invitation, but an invitation nonetheless. ]
Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that one either, [ Vidal huffs, and stops again at about arm’s reach, and he raises his hands. More a telegraph of intent to lay them on that arm, but it definitely comes off as a mock surrender. ] No sleep darts up my sleeve, all right? They made me take ‘em outta my carry-on.
[ That’s a joke that can be only about 99% a joke if it wants to be. ]
no subject
[He'd have to up the dosage. Considerably.]
So! Before we get started and you take a peak at my maybe dislocated shoulder, and ooooh! Chronically bad back...
[Rex sizes up the other man. Considering the fact that Rex isn't all that tall himself, standing at a very meager five feet and eleven inches, which is pretty damn small when compared to the likes of Omni-Man or Black Samson, this guy is tiny. Shortness of stature isn't a guarantee for strength, however, not outright- He could possess the ability to warp reality, read minds, or control armies of mindless drones without lifting a damn finger.
But for right now, he sort of talks like one of those hardened guys who frequented the delis near the hotheaded superhero's old neighborhood. Someone who was always dressed a little too nicely for a neighborhood that most people with money were terrified to step foot in. Rex is pretty sure he knows the type. Mobsters of the cartoony sort may be a thing of the past, but there's always a kingpin in a tacky suit calling the shots in every big city.]
You said somethin' about dimensions. Which one are we in right now?
Sounds like you're from Chicago. Or, uh, sounds like you're tryin' a little too hard to sound like you're from Chicago. Hey! Just keepin' it really real, old man.
no subject
All right are we talkin’ shoulder, talkin’ shop, or talkin’ shit about how I talk, kid? ‘Cause shoulders I can work with, ADHD’s a whole other animal. Yeah I’m from Chicago.
[ And the 5% of his life that he’s actually home these days, these Louboutins are for strolling Lincoln Park, not shady south side delis, thanks. ]
And this is a distinctly Chicago-free dimension, wherever it is. [ Before Spandex McGee can shit on this non-joke too, he plows on. ] Given the liminal kinda space and the spread of times and places folks are claiming to be from, I’d hazard some sort of extradimensional deal, but it’s hard to say what’s up from the inside without any resources. It ain’t really my department to begin with.
[ He puts out an insistent hand again, eyebrows hiked up. Shoulder? Now? His goodwill is plummeting by the second? ]
no subject
Then again, it does sound like we speak the same language-
[Chicagan?]
Which is Asshole.
[Nevermind.]
Anyway... So, how long have you been stuck in this place? Did you happen to start out here, too?
Around all the empty graves and shit?
[He gestures to the eerily grim setting.]
no subject
Probably 'bout a month or so. And no, believe it or not. Most of us woke up on the welcome wagon and were treated to a train car full'a cuddly puppies.
[ And you'd think he's speaking fluent Asshole right now, but go ahead. Ask anyone about the cuddly puppies, Rex. ]
This shit's all new. Some of you crazy fucks must've missed the first stop— Now c'mon, let me see that.
[ He's taking your fucking arm, Rex, and barring any extreme protest he's gonna get a feel for that popped shoulder. Given the height disparity among other things, this would probably go a lot smoother if the kid would lie down, but after all that crowing about you'll never take me alive or whatever the fuck, he's not gonna even bother suggesting it. Carefully he lifts the arm forward, shifts it a little accordingly. ]
Can you relax just a little, dude?
no subject
[Rex wracks his brain for a possible explanation. Maybe their inter-dimensional kidnappers had a stupid sense of humor or were trying to lure them into a false sense of security.]
...But did they smell?
[BECAUSE SOMETHING HAD TO HAVE BEEN WRONG WITH THEM?!]
no subject
Did— ... Yeah, they smelled like dog, that’s your problem? It smelled weirder in the museum full of severed limbs. None of this sounds like bullshit to you?
[ Because honestly, even if Rex should read gullible as hell with the way he’s snarking, just rolling with it is way closer to the language Vidal speaks than just being at a total loss. He had said something about portals and things that came through them, hadn’t he? ]
You deal with a lot of dimensional shifts ‘n rifts like this?
no subject
[At that, Rex just shrugs, although considering that one of his shoulders is still very dislocated-]
O-ow.
Uh, usually when somethin' beams into my world through a portal and starts, y'know, wreckin' shit, I'm who they call.
I've never been pulled into one before.
Have you? Also, did you say severed limbs? Like, freshly? Or are we talkin' a good ol' fashioned case of rigor mortis?
no subject
What do you know, maybe we got somethin’ in common.
[ Although he gets called on portals and/or weird shit wrecking shop for entirely different reasons. ]
I’ve walked through one, [ he offers. Fortunate enough to have never gotten sucked through... until now, really. ] And honestly, I misspoke, it was more like... limbs popped off like Barbie dolls. There were still some organs lyin’ around though—it was a weird car, okay?
no subject
[Once again... He wiggles as he speaks, the pitch of Rex's voice rising by the minute-]
Did you say organs?! Y'know, I was hopin' that I wasn't hearin' ya right, and you meant to say, oooooh, I dunno! Organisms or even orgasms! But, what the fuck?!
I prefer things like my liver and spleen to stay inside of me, thank you very much! Did you see anything major? Like a heart or a brain?
no subject
Oh no I definitely said orgasms. Everywhere. All over the floor— do you even listen to yourself? Look, nobody actually got hurt, believe it or not, this place is just coming up with some pretty sophisticated ways to fuck with people.
[ Forget he said anything. Speaking of Barbie dolls, he's finally got that arm shifted enough that with one last little shunt it slips back into its socket. ]
—There we go, that's better. Dunno if you got anything else rattling around in there, but I guess it'll "heal on its own", hm?
[ Because from the look of it, those scuffs and bruises across the cheek seem to have already cleared up while he wasn't looking, so he'll take your word for it, kiddo. But in his experience, it helps the process along if everything's at least sort of in place. ]
no subject
[Comically, Rex wiggles his own fingers, at least before the shoulder is popped into the
next century I meansocket.]Jesus Christ, ow?! The fuck was that fo-
[And, as he moves it, that supposedly damaged shoulder...
Vidal might experience an eerie sensation, something akin to watching a mannequin's arm being jostled around... There's something odd about the way that the angry teenager rocks his shoulder backwards and forwards, as if nothing had been damaged in the first place at all.]
No. Seriously.
What's your deal, and aaah, I'm sorry! But who the fuck are you?
no subject
[ God he regrets saying anything on the subject at all. ]
[ Anyway, Vidal lets the poor kid get his own bearings, even if they come surprisingly quickly considering the way he's already throwing that shoulder around. It's impressive if nothing else. Unfortunately, Rex is already being way too fucking annoying to even marvel at it for long. ]
My name's Rubén, I love traveling and long walks in the graveyard in the middle of the night, and I know first-aid, the fuck more do you want? I got kidnapped same as you, k— [ Deep inhale— ] You want me to stop callin' you kid, gimme somethin' to work with here.
no subject
Good to know that people are good to Van Gogh go all up in this bitch! People? Aliens. Still dunno who fuckin' brought us here. Guess I gotta put that kooky mystery on my to-do list, which I'd rather be fillin' up with hot fuckable folk, but, y'know! Priorities.
[The sarcasm in his voice is palpable.]
Okay, Ruben, so- Like the sandwich? Got it.
[Another R name. Rex will therefore remember it easily.]
Rex Splode- Formerly of the Teen Team, currently a Guardian of the Globe.
[Simply spouting the title so soon after seeing his comrades beaten to fucking pulps feels different now. The taste is bitter.
Monster Girl, Black Samson, and Invincible being carted on stretchers... That's the last thing he remembers, and boy, is the stench of blood still fresh in his nostrils.]
I'm a goddamn superhero. And, before you mouth off at me? I'm the real deal.
I've been at this shit for three years now, full-time. My nuts may not be all dried up or nothin', but I know what I'm doing.
[He says it with an air of haughtiness, but there's bitterness mixed in, if the other man really listens carefully.]
no subject
Like the sandwich. [ If that’s what it takes for you to fucking remember it. ]
[ Anyway, scoffed under his breath while
the kidRex prattles on about superheroism, ] Rex Splode, that's fucking adorable.[ But he refrains from too much incredulity beyond some hiked up eyebrows. Once in a blue moon a PoP would take up some sort of corny mantle and apply their powers for the greater good back home, but Superpowered Vigilantism wasn't exactly common, especially not common enough to warrant multiple organizational titles. ]
Yeah it was either superhero or speed skater. [ Three years, huh. What is this, the
BatmanGeneric Broody Dark Knight With A Baby Sidekick school of thought? Start 'em young indeed. ] I don't mean to rain on what was clearly a pretty shitty day when I say the lady doth protest too much, but rollin' in here with a busted face and arm screamin' for help and answers ain't exactly inspiring much confidence.[ Does that count as mouthing off? Because don't get him wrong, that's exactly how Vidal had wound up here—albeit with less screaming and more carefully placating a shaking, neurotic chihuahua named Toko Fukawa until she cut the stitches out of him—but there's no mistaking the undertones of this insufferable peacocking. Wounded pride, maybe, among some other wounded things. Bit familiar. ]
SPOILERS FOR INVINCIBLE PAST S1
[Rex, unfortunately, is more than just a vigilante. He is a Guardian of the Globe, which is exactly what it sounds like- A protector of planet Earth. While it's true he's not yet qualified for all that responsibility, a mere teenager growing into adulthood, the original Guardians were murdered by an unimaginable horror from space.
That is the problem with Rex's universe. Earth is not just Earth or even Urath. The possibilities for mortal peril are infinite, whether it be aliens from another dimension or galaxies far, far away. All that is guaranteed is death, really, although Rex is no stranger to that.]
You ever stare at a body after it's been blown the fuck up? 'S not pretty! In fact, it's a big fuckin' mess.
Barely looks like it ever was a goddamn person in the first place.
[He says this flatly. It's subtle, but this is not a brag. It is a cruel, gritty reminder of what Rex knows are just the facts.
Before he turned sixteen, his kill count was in the hundreds. While most children were fretting over their first crushes and embarrassing parents, he was finding people who didn't want to be found and making sure he left them dead, never alive.
They had told him he was keeping the country safe. They had given him purpose. Fuck, they gave him superpowers.
And what little boy, especially one whose parents had sold him without a second of hesitation, with no friends or hope for a future, would ever say no to that?]
Don't fuck with me. If you think this is cranky? You ain't seen nothin' yet.