hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Mimicry

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for March
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: March 10th-16th
Warnings: Fresh meat and fatal sweets.

Rise and shine, it's time to meet your new home! While the two suns overhead might make it a bit of a scorcher, there's plenty of shade to be found around you, so get out of the sun before you burn! While you're at it, you might want to introduce yourself to the others who woke up in the same predicament as you- or just run off on your own, that's cool too.

Be careful though, because you're arriving with a bunch of, uh- inanimate objects? Wait, that's no chair! These are mimics, small gelatinous spider-like creatures that can transform into inanimate objects and then pop out to scare you. If you can keep calm, mimics are no big deal, but if you give them the opportunity they will jump onto your head and suffocate you, before using your corpse to reproduce. Nice!

That's alright though, because if you can survive the mimics then you have delicious food waiting for you as a reward! In a shocking twist of events, the items supplied by the Door have no significant twist, save for the desire to eat every single one you can get your hands on. They're Girl Scout Cookies! Long the envy of boy scouts everywhere, these delicious treats will have you munching away your daily caloric intake in no time!

Just, uh- be careful, as the mimics seemed to have caught onto everyone's desire for these colorful boxes. Approach your cookies carefully!

Once you've escaped the mimics and grabbed some snacks, you're ready for the wider world of Hadriel. Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, a new monster, a project to help with, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers March 10th-16th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication and the newbie guide installed.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ephemera doesn't usually spend time in the orchards. The trees provide uneven cover and make him uneasy, imagining snipers. But today he's made an exception to go hunting for some fruit. A gift for Drake. They could all use something nice and who knows how long they'll have fresh fruit hanging around? So he's wandering around, looking for something good, and realizing he knows almost nothing about fruit. Are they supposed to be that brightly colored when not freeze-dried and vacuum sealed?

Questions. He'll get a mix, see what Drake thinks.

The shout makes him pause.

Ephemera turns. He's in full armor, helmet concealing his face. And there's a man on the ground. "What?"

This isn't the first time he's seen that sort of armor now, so Ivar manages to keep his reaction largely to himself. It's still so alien. To him, plate armor is still an invention to be made several hundred years in the future, let alone whatever this is.

Ivar isn't cowed by it, though. More fascinated. It looks... deadly.

"Can you reach that?" He points up to the axe lodged in the tree.

Ephemera glances at the tree.

Sure, why not. He's trying to be neighborly these days.

He goes up on his toes and pulls the axe free. Twirls it absently before walking over to hand it back. "Target practice?"

"Picking fruit," he answers, wryly, taking the axe. His eyes travel up the length of the arm which hands his weapon back to him, trying without context or experience to understand what's there. He tucks his own weapon into the strap at his hip, leaning against his crutch. Since Ephemera has been obliging, why not make conversation? "This is armor, yes?" That's what the other one had said, the woman. She'd been wearing a different color, but it was similar in its incomprehensibility (and general shape.)

"Uh huh."

Ephemera tips his head to the side. Guy doesn't move so well. Either from an injury or something else.

"Your world doesn't have this?"

"Nothing like that," he says, plucking at the hilt of his axe where it rattles against the crude metal brace around his leg, as though to indicate what his world does have. Which: not much, by comparison. Curiously: "Do you wear that always?"

Not that Ivar isn't also currently in his armor, leather and unimpressive in contrast though it may be, but he's new and it's what he came dressed in.

"Always," Ephemera agrees. It's close enough to the truth. There were times that he slept in his armor. He hesitates, then pulls his helmet off. He's been told that showing his face is neighborly.

The scars, perhaps less so.

"It helps with the fighting."

As a Viking, Ivar doesn't find the scars off-putting. Interesting, though, certainly.

He looks at it without staring, exactly. Having been on the receiving end of enough stares in his lifetime for the state of his legs, he's a little more self-aware than most.

"I have heard that happens a lot, here." For a guy who clearly can't walk very well and just had to ask for help getting something out of a tree, he looks absurdly excited by the concept. Well, no one has ever accused Ivar of having too much sense.

"It does," Ephemera agrees. He tips his head to the side. "You got a rig or something?"

Something that helps him fight. Because there's no way someone who grins like this man doesn't fight.

"A 'rig?'" Ivar echoes, sounding unsure. Any other time he'd assume Ephemera was talking about a ship, but there's not enough water here for that. That he has seen, in any case.

"A rig." He slaps his chest plate. "Armor, drone controls -- probably not that."

Because. Technology.

He exhales sharply.

"Thing you fight in."

Ivar's brow wrinkles, and he reaches up to tap the front of his own leather breastplate with a finger, mimicking. "I fight in this." There's a chariot involved sometimes but like, that's less about fighting and more about getting to the fights. Best not to confuse the issue too much. "Where I am from, we do not have... that." A vague hand gesture towards Ephemera's everything.

Intro Log: Mimicry

Orchards

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