epidemiology | EVENT ▸ RETURN TO HQ

EVENT ▸ RETURN TO HQ

RETURN TO HQ

After a tough mission, it's time to return to Headquarters for a well-earned rest. Hathaway's medics and healers are there to patch up any lingering injuries (as are any teammates with healing abilities!), everyone's room is tidied up for them, and the entirety of Hathaway HQ is ripe for exploring. Take your time -- you earned it.

Also sharing downtime at HQ are Guilds Horatio, Montague, and Watchman, composed of humanoids of various shapes and sizes. Temporary pop-up shops down in the promenade include a spa where one can get a manicure, pedicure, or other beautifying procedures; a yoga studio; and an imported salt cave for meditation.

After a few days of silent relaxation, members of Guild Ophelia will all receive a text message on their magitek from Imogen -- their Guild Master, if they don't remember. Imogen, while not directly involved in any world-saving affairs, has a rather sizable amount of inheritance that she puts towards the Hathaway cause. Specifically, she uses it to finance Ophelia's endeavors. This sort of makes her in charge, or as much in charge of this rag-tag team as any one person can be.

Hello, Ophelia!

Once again, allow me to congratulate you on your successful mission in Hanabira. I hear the wedding went smashingly. Hathaway's analysts should rift down someone to check in on your success in several years, but the mathematicians are confident your solution has brought peace to the region.

One should never rest on their laurels, however. From what I've seen in magitek messages, this guild is sorely lacking in the ability to work together and trust all guildmates, regardless of who they are. I've spotted more than a few barbs exchanged. Hanabira will be only an exception if you continue to behave this way.

We'll be conducting guild bonding exercises today. While they are not mandatory, I assure you I've procured incentive for you all to participate. It isn't cheap to finance your exploits, and I won't spend my resources on a group of ruffians slinging insults at each other.

Meet by the memorial fountain in one hour, and do try to bring a positive attitude.

Your Guild Master,
Imogen

Those who choose to participate will find Imogen, a very prim and graceful elf dressed in elaborately embroidered robes, standing near the fountain. She greets everyone by name -- "nice to see you" and "glad you could make it" -- before directing them to the training rooms on the upper deck.

The training rooms include run-of-the-mill exercise equipment and the training simulation room, both of which are free to use by participants and non-participants alike. A tall, strong-looking man whom some may recognize as their recruiter is making use of the equipment. His name is Khalef, and he is happy to answer questions about the training facilities or anything else about Hathaway.

Between exercises, Imogen is available at the memorial fountain to chat but she's otherwise busy with paperwork.

▸ SECRETS

Two partners sit in a room furnished only with two (very comfy, if it matters) chairs and a table between them. On the table sits -- floats, really -- a colorful orb, softly glowing. It is comfortably warm to the touch.

The instructions automatically flash across the participants' magitek, thanking them for participating and asking them both to answer the following questions with complete honesty to gain the most from this exercise. Then, the first question pops up: What is something you like about your exercise partner?

It seems simple enough. If a participant tells the truth, they will notice the orb's glow brightening, almost as if it is starting to flame. If a participant lies, they will notice the orb's glow dimming. Otherwise, there is no penalty for lying.

The questions slowly get more personal, with the aim of getting the two partners to open up to each other:

If a crystal ball could tell you the future, what would you want to know?

What’s the one thing you would like to change about yourself?

What are you most proud of accomplishing?

What do you think existed before the universe was created?

What do you think is the worst crime a human could commit?

Do you think jealousy has value in driving people to improve themselves, or is it a purely negative emotion?

If you could start your life over, what would you do differently?

If you were given only one week to live, how would you spend it?

Who had the greatest impact on your life? What was it?

What’s the difference between justice and revenge?

Is it possible to live a normal life and not ever tell a lie?

Do the ends justify the means?

Are some people’s lives worth more than others? Why or why not?

Complete this sentence: "I wish I had someone with whom I could share..."

If a loved one died, but someone created a perfect copy, would they be the same person and would you love them just as much?

If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.

( Mod note: the above are just ideas! You can pick and choose, or come up with your own. Whatever is most fun for you! )

If the two partners truthfully answer their questions, the orb will eventually catch fire, although it will curiously still remain only pleasantly warm if anyone attempts to touch it. It will blaze until it burns out, leaving two small marble replicas in its place. When one of the partners grasps it in their hand, they will be able to see through the other partner's eyes for one minute (although they will not be aware of their own surroundings, so you might want to be in a safe area). The other partner will be aware of this and able to sever the link by removing the marble from their person. These items are bound to their owners and cannot be used by others.

If one or both partners lie, the orb will eventually fizzle out entirely, and the magitek will inform them that the exercise was failed due to deceit.

▸ RIFTING

Next, guild members are directed to the rifting pad located on the upper deck. Technicians scurry about in the rifting area, spinning dials and taking readings, as volunteers are directed to stand on the rifting pad and wait. It's just like rifting to a different universe for a mission -- the world goes bright and then, in a flash, you're standing somewhere else -- except the technicians emphatically explain this is not a mission. It's still part of the training exercise, you see!

Participants have been rifted to an unpopulated garden planet, in the middle of a forest clearing. The grass is tall -- nearly 150 cm in height -- and is surrounded on all sides by forest. A notice pops up on your magitek that informs you there is no aggressive local wildlife, but there are aggressive plants: including, unfortunately, your goal for this part of the exercise.

Spread throughout the forest are aggressive willow trees, sentient flora that will lash out with sharp, clawlike branches at anyone who comes too close. The branches have incredible reach, but the trees have no other defense, and are rooted to the spot so they are also unable to maneuver. The goal of the exercise is to gather as many willow seeds as possible, ostensibly without hurting the trees themselves. Willow seeds are around the size of a small marble and have a fluffy attachment that will allow them to blow away on the wind; you can scour the forest in search of them, of course, but the highest concentration is below the willows themselves.

Once participants feel they have gathered enough seeds -- or if they simply want to give up -- they need only speak to the rift technicians via magitek and they will return back to Headquarters immediately.

The participants will each receive a pot of soil and a seed to plant within it. The plant that sprouts from it will be no ordinary plant; it will require no water to sustain itself, but it will require something else: friendship. As the relationship between the two participants strengthens, the plant will grow, its appearance representing how the other participant feels about the plant owner -- pink and red blooms may represent romantic love, whereas bright, multi-colored petals may simply represent a strong friendship or budding blooms may represent... well, a budding friendship. (Of course, there's no "flower guide", so it's up to them to decide how to interpret this.) As the relationship weakens, the plant will wilt and, if the relationship turns sour enough, die. So take care of your relationship and take care of your plant!

▸ COMPOSURE

This exercise completed, participants are free to return to the first deck and go about their business. But on the elevator back down from the rifting pad, the elevator suddenly jerks violently and then stalls. You're stuck! The emergency button doesn't seem to be working, no matter how many times you press it. And for that matter, no messages seem to be going through the magitek, either. You're effectively trapped in here with whomever you stepped aboard -- a friend, an acquaintance, or even a stranger.

But don't panic -- surely Hathaway hired you for your ingenuity and not just your pretty face, right?

The elevator can be broken out of in a number of ways:

If you brute strength the doors open, you'll find that the elevator is stuck halfway between floors. This means that you must either climb up or down to escape the narrow opening, and, if your partner isn't the athletic type, help them out as well.
If you hack the elevator's control panel (prying the panel door off first, obviously), you may be able to guide it up and down the shaft. Depending on your expertise in this sort of thing, the ride may be jerky and uncomfortable, and there's always a risk of the elevator plummeting down to the bottom if you lose control -- although strangely, there's never any impact if this happens, only the elevator springing back up the shaft after the fall. Either way, you should be able to figure out how to get the doors open.
If you open the access hatch at the top of the elevator, you'll be granted access to the elevator shaft. It's a dimly lit tunnel of cables and wires, and unless you're lucky enough to find a service ladder in the midst of all of it, you'll have to use the cables to climb. It's dangerous -- you could lose your footing at any moment and slam back down onto the elevator below -- but you should be able to find a door eventually. And then it's only a matter of figuring out how to get it open.
Or you could try a combination of these, or something entirely different!

No matter what method you choose, once you find your way onto solid ground, your magitek will light up:

Congratulations! You passed the final exercise. Rest assured, you were never in any real danger, I promise!

Your Guild Master,
Imogen

Indeed, if you found yourself falling too far down the shaft, you would have found yourself instantly buffeted by invisible winds to keep your landing soft -- and if you found yourself unable to find a way to escape within two hours, the elevator would automatically start up again.

Those who succeed will receive a flashlight that does not seem to work at first; however, it is capable of taking and storing light from its immediate surroundings, which it can then release into similar light sources or, in the absence of those, floating orbs of light. It is incapable of taking light out of an entire building, for an example, but can darken a room.

▸ OOC NOTES

If you have questions about this log, please direct them to this comment on the plotting post. Questions about the game in general can be directed to the FAQ.

▸ Up now:

Hanabira Bounty Board is still open! Bounties must be turned in by the start of the next mission on 15 April.
Congratulations, Guild Ophelia now has an official uniform! The uniforms may be modified in any way characters like. The FAQ and Headquarters pages have been updated to include the uniform information.

▸ Coming next:

25 March: Mandatory How's My Driving meme. Participation is required to pass March AC.
28 March: April calendar, including news about apps.
01 April: March AC begins, ending on 5 April 23:59 UTC.

▸ Plotting ▸ Hathaway Headquarters ▸ Hanabira Bounty Board ▸ March Calendar

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Aye-aye, Captain. Cute basket, no algae.

[ He'll find a way to overthink it a little anyway. But truthfully, after their whole trip to Hanabira, Scott's just content to have access to things like burgers again. ]

See you in an hour.

[The chaotic part of Veronica is curious about this.

As it is, time to go off and find out if there's an age requirement for alcohol.]

[ Maybe Scott should have been the one collecting booze.

But actually, once he gets started, it's not too difficult to come up with ideas. He's no Warren, he doesn't have the kind of pretentious palate that comes with money, but still he doesn't just eat hamburgers every day. Or soup. Despite what everyone would consider his poor fashion sense, he even thinks he might have done okay on the picnic basket front.

Hopefully Veronica will be satisfied with blts, texas potato salad, blueberry brownies and chocolate-filled strawberries. Oh, and water, because Scott's Scott, and if they're going to be drinking...well. He suspects Veronica's got a lot more experience than he does, but god only knows how long this will take and how much they might imbibe. ]

[Look at these teenagers spend all of their money on useless things.

As it is, Veronica returns with a basket of her own, only it's less cute because of the thermal nature of it all. The champagne and orange juice should be chilled. Otherwise, it won't be very enjoyable. Therefore, the basket is just simple black, but it's large enough to hold a couple bottles of champagne and a couple bottles of orange juice.

It does the trick.]

Very cute basket. I approve. Now, shall we?

[ Okay, water turned out to be a good idea. He didn't expect her to get that much alcohol. Conflicting feelings wage for a minute— he's a bit surprised at the flare of warmth at her approval (it's not like he's helpless and bumbling and can't handle a picnic). That feeling wins; strong enough to drown out the nasty voice that wonders if that much alcohol for this story is some tacit judgment. ]

Ladies first. [ And Scott's not quite good at charming, but he does his best/smoothest after you gesture. ] You should pick the spot. You're the one who can judge the view.

[The leftovers can go in the fridge. Veronica is not opposed to having daily mimosas if needed.

As it is, she begins to stride on ahead to lead them to the level with the park.]

For the record, a view isn't the goal. Privacy is. It's not like there's a risk of too much sunlight.

[Which makes this a shoddy picnic, but they'll make do.]

[ It's easier if she just makes the suggestions that Scott himself would prefer. He feels less paranoid about it. Logically— who would want to listen in? But it'll be easier if that possibility is reduced. He's got some strong misgivings about how this might shake out. ]

I wish there were. I like space, don't get me wrong, but after about a week I learned I start missing actual sky.

[ Anyway there's gotta be some available tree with drooping branches or convenient sheltered hollow among some bushes or something. ]

No matter what comes of our future missions, I believe our glorious HQ will always motivate us to look forward to the experience. [Hanabira felt like a reward, and she suspects that it's the type of reward that'll stand out more down the line.]

Barring that, I may need to consider Vitamin D supplements. We all may need to, the ... less human members of our group excepted.

Don't knock HQ. This is some kind of luxury cruise liner. We could be living in the deep-space equivalent of a camper.

[ Or worse. So much worse. Though he misses the Starjammers, even if the bathrooms were the size of postage stamps and it smelled like sweat, ozone and fur. ]

Though I'm struggling to ever picture you in a camper.

[ It feels like he's talking a lot, and he's pretty sure he's not in any way funny, or fully covering up that the thought of this conversation makes him more than a little nervous. It's not fair to Veronica to expect that the moment he tells her anything meaningful she might hold it against him. Or, worse, bolt. That's insulting to her. Or maybe it's just the thought of trying to explain anything to anybody, knowing what it sounds like, and he's just projecting all his neuroses and shame onto her.

Probably that. But they stumble on a good candidate spot— a number of trees, an artificial pond to drown out noise— he can't help shifting his weight a little as he stands and surveys. Trying to get a more solid footing, maybe, but not quite settling into collected stillness. ]

Here, maybe?

It'll do. [The words don't come quickly. Veronica instead spends her silence watching his movements, trying to guess what it is that he sees in this place compared to her. There are times when she thinks it's good that she gets him talking. If he normalizes the neuroses and has someone to answer to, it might be good. Not that she knows for sure. She's done therapy before, sure, but she didn't have any of the real problems that other people have.

That Scott seems to have.

Instead, she decides to bypass it. Having him say too much might make him skittish. She can already guess that her attempt to make this easier has already made him more uncomfortable, but food and drink will make it more ... casual. Somewhat. They can pretend this is a conversation instead of an awkward AMA or whatever.

Veronica moves to sit down, bending her legs underneath her, as she proceeds to pop open one of the bottles of champagne. To her credit, her pours into the cups seems ... fairly restrained. She's not trying to get the two of them wasted after all. The orange juice follows.]

Before we start, I need to know what a mutant is. It sounds like a derogatory term, but it sounds like you and yours have reclaimed it.

[ He'd be uncomfortable no matter what she did. There's little precedent for him to burst out with the offer in the first place; sitting on his feelings and writing endless letters he never sends are so much more his speed. The X-Men would have been amazed, possibly proud, possibly jealous. Not having a group to pick up his slack's forced him to try to adapt, and he needed to...but it was never going to be easy.

But if she asked, it might be beyond him to explain all that to her. Starting with bare facts is easier. ]

Uh, I dunno that it was initially intended to be an insult— it's the most simplified description there could possibly be. For awhile all they knew was that it had something to do with mutation. But, um—

[ Just pausing to collect his thoughts, watching her pour drinks. ]

You're a mutant if you possess something they call the "X-gene". When it activates, it triggers further mutation of the genome and rewrites...your anatomy, your physiology. Randomly rewrites, or at least unpredictably.

[ He lets out a bit of a sigh. ]

They didn't know most of that at the time it happened to me, though. It'd just started to leak into the public consciousness that mutants existed.

Hence ... any number of your neuroses. Being the first of anything like that would be difficult. Is that why you're so—touchy? I'm not sure I get the whole picture there. [If Kevin were here, he'd likely be able to lay this out for her without going into too much geek speak. That would be after she made it clear that she wasn't interested in that, rather than humoring him just to go spy on his father.

Veronica figures that a lot of this discussion with Scott is going to be a lot of her asking questions and him answering, but getting the fuller picture is important.

And, again, he clearly wants her to know. Needs her to know. It comes with the closeness of knowing him, she suspects.]

[ Truthfully, if he could not tell her, Scott might elect to do that. But nothing about him makes sense without this context, and he knows that. So he has to tell her. Even though he doesn't much like coughing all of this up. Even if he volunteered it in the first place.

He has to take a moment to think about the answer. A long moment, staring off into the middleground somewhere. ]

Imagine you were just finding out that there was a whole group of people who could do weird things human beings aren't "meant" to do, living among you undetected. [ He turns back to her. ] They could be anyone. They could be your neighbor, your coworker, a member of your family. There the whole time, hiding in plain sight. Nobody can tell you what it means or why it's happening. And the ones that make the nightly news, they do big, scary things. They throw fighter jets around like toys, move faster than the human eye can see. And there are more every day. It's happening to kids, and there's no way to tell if it could be your kids, suddenly waking up able to hear your every thought, sprouting fur or wings, or worse. It could be your neighbor's kids, the ones you always thought were a little not right. If it can be anyone, and they can do anything...

[ The thought stops there. Scott doesn't feel he needs to continue elaborating. ]

Sounds like Xenophobia 101. [As someone growing up in the age that she came from, it's not hard to imagine the fear associated with that. If a white man does something, there's always a different story from someone who isn't white. She can't ignore that. Even though she isn't white, her father's money makes up for the difference. It bridges that gap. But if he didn't have it, how would it be? Would it be worse?

All signs point to "yes."]

Where does your team play into this? Do you police your own?

[ It's complicated, he wants to say. But is it really? It doesn't seem like it should be. The history that led to a muddled mess belongs to him in name but not in lived experience. He's still trying to parse for himself how it all got that way, but that doesn't matter here and now. ]

The answer is: sort of. My team, the original X-Men— we were recruited by our teacher, Professor Xavier. He thought that humans and mutants should be able to live together, that there was more alike than different about us. So he intended that we would be...ambassadors for that idea. We would protect anyone who needed protecting, human or mutant. We would make sure mutants could live safely. And if we had to, we'd stop other mutants from using their abilities to hurt others. We'd figure out a way to demolish the idea that we were something people should fear.

So ... you're superheroes. Which I figured out already. But people still hate you? Well, I guess that'd make sense if you're the only ones around. [Veronica says it as if that's the only way it would make sense.

She is also aware of how quickly she's about to be disappointed by humanity and how stupid it can be.]

[ Scott hesitates for a second. ]

...we're not the only superheroes. We're not even the only people with superhuman abilities.

[ If they were, it might make more sense. But he's given a lot of thought to why it shakes out differently for mutants than it does for others. ]

It's easier to accept people who built themselves high-tech armor, or volunteered to be a science experiment to serve their country, or just had some kind of radioactive accident. It's the perception of control, too, or rather the lack of it. The random, chaotic element doesn't sit well. And the— [ Scott struggles to think of what to say. ] There's a simultaneous fear that we're going to replace humanity and a disgust at the deviation from humanity into something that sometimes feels...regressed, I think is the best way to put it. Something monstrous.

Honestly ... Scott, it sounds like you all just got bad press. People come up with that stuff on their own. I don't doubt it. But ... someone rallied against you, didn't they? [Veronica Lodge (of all people) doesn't need to be an expert on the politics of Scott's world to see how this information would be disseminated. Someone was afraid. Or someone was one of those "bad mutants" and they decided that all mutants were bad.]

Before you ask, it's something I know well. [She straightens up and waves a hand at herself.] Privileged or not, election time is a real trip. And the moment my father calls me an affectionate thing in Spanish in the wrong place, well ... [She shrugs. Discrimination is discrimination.]

I wasn't going to ask. You don't have to justify the validity of what you want to say to me, you know. I'm not doubting you.

[ He's noticed that on these occasions she feels a need to justify her position to him, as though he might question why she feels she can offer an opinion at all. And she's clearly self-conscious about the fact that her upbringing's given her a sheltered and warped perspective on the world.

Since he's about to enforce a break in the questioning, he's going to finally grab a sandwich.]

Anyway. Money can't insulate you from everything. One of the charter X-Men, my friend Warren, grew up with so much money that I'm pretty sure he's never thought in his life about how much his family actually has. Didn't stop him from growing big bird wings. It just made it easier to cope with some of the consequences.

[ Sometimes she reminds him a little of Warren. Some of the same vibes— well-meaning, determined to put her privilege to good use. Conscious of it, if not always of how it's coloring everything. Except that Warren was a rich blond white man, so he'd definitely been a lot more clueless than Veronica could ever even worry about being. ]

When I first moved to Riverdale, Betty and I fought almost immediately. I wasn't thinking, and she had a right to be upset. The basis of it all was that I wasn't very ... practiced in considering others. It wasn't entirely one-sided, but—still. [Veronica doesn't say it outright, but she's a work in progress. She's harder on herself than she needs to be.

On cue, though, she does move to take out a sandwich for herself. What she isn't is someone who refuses food just to look ... well. There are stereotypes here, and they don't suit her.]

Edited 2018-04-23 04:26 (UTC)

[ Scott eats like...well, like Jughead. Like somebody who's used to being incredibly active and also still has hollow leg syndrome from growth spurts. He definitely brought more food than they needed, but it's doubtful it'll make it to the end of the picnic.

Plus the sandwich covers a little while he thinks of what to say. Of course he wants to know what did you do, but even Scott knows that's the worst thing to say. ]

...who's Betty?

The BFF. [Hopefully Scott knows what that means. Veronica doesn't even pause to clarify what it means. Will he make her regret this decision?]

Riverdale native, part of the old Cooper family, which splintered off the Blossom family, which is ... basically a Gothic horror novel of the modern age in action. Betty, thankfully, doesn't take after the Blossom side of the family too much. She's more your girl next store type who wishes she was Nancy Drew. But that's really ... a shoddy description of her.

[There is ease and warmth in her voice as she talks about Betty, which is a sign of how much she deeply cares about her. Veronica can make friends with someone within seconds, but her friendship with Betty is something special.]

Honestly, I think I waited my whole life looking for someone like her. We're meant to take on the world together.

[ He's not so out of the loop that he doesn't know what a BFF is. He has one. Several? We're meant to take on the world together, she says. ]

I know what that feels like.

[ He feels their absence like phantom limb, reaching for a part of him that's no longer there. An echo in the back of the mind. ]

People like that tend to show up when we least expect them and need them the most. [ Could he have known how badly he needed the others, before they were in his life? Could he have anticipated what it would mean? No. ] But I agree, that seems like an inadequate way to describe your destined partner-in-crime.

[ He tilts his head a little in thought, or maybe just contemplating the taste of his sandwich. ]

What would you want me to know about her, if I were going to meet her? The most important thing about her?

She might be all sweaters and cardigans, but she has a ... darker streak to her. I think it makes her uncomfortable sometimes, but it's what drives her when she gets up to the Nancy Drew business. Which—by the way? That part she'd want you to know. Oh, and she's a fantastic journalist in the making. [The last bit might be more suitable for Jughead, but Veronica thinks that Betty can definitely fight him for the title. Perhaps they'll head off to the same college together—or rival universities, trying to make their way in the world.]

Visually, she and I are ... exact opposites. She's got blonde hair and the most beautiful big blue eyes. And she's tall. [And Veronica's height is only made manageable by heels.

Though her heels are great.]

[ Scott wonders why she tells him that, for a brief moment. What that says about her, what that says about Betty...or how she thinks of him. But it's not a detail he wants to dwell on and pick into.

~~Though if pressed to express a conscious opinion, he would agree her heels are great.~~ ]

So she's the girl-next-door who's not-so-secretly a noir detective at heart and you're an ex-socialite with a newly-discovered drive to be good.

[ He totally sees how that works, actually. ]

EVENT ▸ RETURN TO HQ

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"girl next store" huh

the kind with a lemonade stand

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