hadriel_logs | Event log: How Delightful

Entry tags:

Event log: How Delightful

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: Delight's resurrection.
Where: Throughout the city, starting in the bar.
When: March 23rd-April 3rd
Warnings: Partying too hard, poor life choices, underage drinking, the worst hangovers of all time.

On the morning of March 23rd, bright and early, Delight is resurrected. Her temple is restored, and her bar appears in the city. What does that mean? Well, obviously it's time to celebrate. We hope everyone brought their party shoes! From March 23rd to March 27th, the party will be mostly contained in and around Delight's bar, with an invitation from the goddess herself. But it won't be long before she decides that's just not good enough - gotta bring the party to the people! From March 28th to April 3rd, the natural light is dimmed and replaced with flashing colored lights, fireworks, and even a few disco balls. Loud music blares through the city, making it hard to sleep, and a wide variety of trouble is available to be gotten into.

Wanna drink away the pain of being trapped in a hellcave? There's unlimited amounts of alcohol of all kinds, and Delight will be happy to supply anything that might be missing. More interested in karaoke-ing your heart out? Hit up one of the jukeboxes. Enjoy gleeful displays of your own mortality? Here's a skateboard and a ramp, have fun. There's just about anything you could desire, as long as what you desire is to party hard and make bad decisions. And hey, if you find yourself getting tired, grab one (or five) of Delight's special energy shots. They'll eliminate your need for sleep, food, water, cure an oncoming hangover and immediately relax any sore muscles you've got for 24 hours per shot! There's no down side! (Except for all the effects coming back to hit you at once when the shot wears off, but whatever.)

After about a week and a half of tequila shots, keg stands, roman candle battles, tagging the city with free spraypaint, inappropriate party games, and balloon hats made to look like rocket ships (wait... that's not a rocket ship), Delight realizes everyone's partied out and starts to wind things down. On April 3rd, she'll clean up the city, removing everything except for a few remaining fireworks and disco balls, stored in her temple. Her bar will still be around, if you can stand to even look at liquor after all the poor choices you made. Otherwise, lay in bed and try to recover from your hangover while the city goes back to normal.

► This log covers March 23rd-April 3rd.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► Did you party too hard? Please report any character deaths right here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's a good thing this stranger isn't a monster from the caves, as Nick finds the two of them are on all the same pages in regards to the gods of the city. Hope -- Delight too, probably -- might have been honestly trying to make things better for all who were trapped there, but ultimately, the people coming through the door were being used in one way or another. Maybe it would be to their benefit, in the end: maybe, once all the gods were resurrected, they'd be able to find a way home.

Or maybe they'd cease to be useful and be discarded, trashed. That's a distinctly uncomfortable thought to the synth. He's been through that once already.

"And would forcing their hands be worth it, in the end, is another question. We've seen some of what they can do already. Who knows what they'd try to do if they found anyone actively plotting against them."

The music in the distance booms again, seeming to get louder, and Nick adjusts his hat. "Though if you spent hours in the caves searching for an exit, you must be better equipped to handle a little danger than some of the folks here."

"If it could lead to us all being delivered from this predicament, then yes. If not..." He has to concede that Nick has a point; he wasn't even sure how he would go about doing any of this. It was too much baseless conjecture; he needed to learn more, needed more time to think, even if the idea of remaining in this city chafed at him fiercely. He decides that tackling the next line of conversation will be easier.

"I am a highly trained warrior. Though I have no taste for senseless conflict, and do not like causing others pain, I am more than equipped to defend myself if threatened." And slaying mindless monsters that could pose a threat to populace of this city does not pose the same moral quandries as fighting with sentient beings does.

The stranger gets what Nick was implying, if his trailing off is any indication: it'd be worse to be rash than reasonable when dealing with godlike beings, ones who had no problems letting others starve or turning them into cannibalistic monsters. The new deity appears to genuinely care about others, but time will tell if it's all a ruse. For now, her ongoing party seems like the result of good intentions twisted by excess.

While Nick is pleased his assessment that the stranger was no defenseless citizen was on the nose, he's even more so at the warrior's claims that he isn't of the bloodthirsty variety. "The world could use more people who aren't out for senseless violence. Hell, any world could. Not just this one. There's a time and a place where fists make better negotiators than words, but too many folks turn to them first rather than as a last resort."

"It's refreshing to find someone else who agrees," Glacius responds, though it makes him consider this new stranger again. He's very humanoid, which suggests he was made by humans, though he displays self-awareness and sentience that the alien has not seen in other human constructs. His criticisms of humanity, moreover, strike the alien as interesting, given that about the only thing he had witnessed from them prior to coming to this place has been senseless violence.

Now he's witnessed senseless violence and senseless debauchery in spades. Delight's antics weren't exactly helping his opinion of humans, but at least the people he'd met in Hadriel had been generally more accepting of him. And on that note...

"I have to ask why you're not... well, more startled by my presence here. Most people mistake me for just another monster from the caves. Others gawk when they discover me. You haven't done any of that. It's a... a good departure from the usual."

With another of his deductions proven true, Nick can't help but smile. That one hadn't even been a difficult conclusion to draw, given the stranger's unusual appearance.

"Well, you could be a monster," he starts, "but so could so many others here. Nearly mistook a kid who can turn into a giant wolf for one back when the gods had cannibals roaming the streets." He doesn't blame himself too much for that assumption: after all, a huge wolf is close enough to the other creatures that have come through the Door. This guy, on the other hand, is completely out of this world -- not that some of the monsters hadn't been, but Nick figures he's better off taking his chances.

"And as for not gawking, I figured you get enough of that around here. I know I do. I'm pretty sure you can tell that I'm not exactly human myself."

Way to go, Nick--it's almost like you are a natural detective or something!

As the synth recounts his tale, Glacius can't help but give a quiet chuckle. "To be honest... I probably would have done the same thing. I've dealt with a giant wolf before... well, technically, I believe the term humans use for that sort of beast would be a 'lycanthrope'. It was a very intimidating creature."

Now he sighs a little, dropping his gaze to his hands, which are folded in his lap--and after a moment he wrings them together, seeming uncomfortable. The fact of the matter is that Nick's assessment is very much correct. He is tired of the gawking; he's been stuck living among humans for quite some time now, and every time they see him and mistake him for a monster due to his appearance--or even so much as stare at him--it reminds Glacius that he is an outsider now. He likely will be for some time more, too. Sometimes it weighs on him more than others, and now is one of those times, given what a monumental setback being brought to Hadriel was. He was so sure that he was so close to finishing his mission and going back to his homeworld, where he actually belonged...

... But the alien is not one to spill his personal woes to everyone, particularly not a stranger he's just met, even if they do seem to have some things in common. Instead he looks back at Nick now, giving a careful nod. "I could, though I was not sure if saying anything would have been in poor taste. If you have had to deal with the same sort of prejudices that I have, though, then you have my... sympathies. Humans can be quick and harsh in their judgments."

Nick makes a mental note to ask about those lycanthropes later -- any world where a werewolf is an actual possibility sounds interesting enough -- as he nods in agreement.

"They can be, though in my case, it's hard to blame them. Where I come from, the people who make folks like me are the bad guys. Not all synths are bad, but the ones who are on their side sure as hell are." Of course, that's one thing that makes his predicament that much more frustrating: he isn't one of the bad guys, and it's hard to prove that to people, especially when—

He casts a look Glacius' way. "A lot of folks are just scared. They get that way when they don't understand something. The people back home can't tell the difference between the good ones and the bad, and some of the people here can't tell what I am at all. Technology like me is just a pipe dream, if that."

"I suppose so. Most humans lead such simple, sheltered lives... when confronted with the unknown, it can be quite problematic for them. And I suppose it is more understandable here, in a place where monsters are apparently commonplace... but that does not make it any more pleasant, for either party involved. All I want is peace." Or at least for his species and humanity to simply ignore one another. Humanity was making it difficult, though, given that the only time their species had made contact it had ended in a lot of pain for he and his ancestor, and given their incessant tampering with his technology.

"So are you an AI inhabiting a shell, then..?" Glacius asks, venturing the question tentatively. He's still not sure if asking Nick things like this is insensitive, or falls into personal territory, but the synth has so far seemed open enough about himself... and it's hard to stay his curiosity forever. He likes learning about new cultures and new technology when the circumstances allow it.

"Something like that," he answers.

He pauses; he wouldn't normally reveal something so candid, so personal, but hell, it's not like the Institute is a threat in Hadriel, or that the people he meets understand what a menace they are to the Commonwealth. While he's met another person who is more machine than most, she's a far cry from his own synthetic nature. At least he's used to being one of a kind by now.

"It's not artificial intelligence between my ears, but a copy of a real person... someone who used to be alive. An old cop from back before synths like myself were even a known entity."

"I... hm," Glacius pauses, seeming to think on it. "My apologies, but I do not seem to fully grasp the difference, or the repercussions inherent. Is that not what AIs essentially are? Maybe not direct copies of people, but highly advanced digital beings made to emulate the behavior and sentience of humans as closely as possible."

"You just answered your own question," Nick replies soberly. "The other synths, back where I come from, are programmed to act as human as possible. People sometimes can't tell the difference between one of them and the real McCoy, but it's all still artificial - something coded into them by some eggheads behind a desk."

He looks back across the park toward the river, his glowing eyes affixing themselves on the distance. "What I've got isn't."

And it's that point in particular that troubles him: that everything he has, everything he is, ultimately belongs to someone else. The pre-war memories, unsolved cases, long-forgotten loves -- all of them had existed once, had belonged to the real Nick Valentine, not to the machine that now bears his name. There's not much he can do to change that.

Edited 2016-03-30 07:38 (UTC)

Glacius frowns lightly, dropping his gaze to his hands again. Truthfully, he still feels like he doesn't completely grasp the difference--if the human's memories were transferred to his mind, weren't there still encoding processes that would make such a thing "artificial"? But then, he doesn't like to pry, and he gets the feeling there's no way to ask that question without seeming biased or ignorant.

"Well... if you are sentient, then you have the right to your own existence, the same as anyone else. And besides... even if you were made to be a clone or a copy, you can... still be your own being. There's a point of divergence, no? You now have experiences and memories that whatever or whoever you were based on does not, and that makes you unique. You shouldn't have to be stuck living in the shadow of someone else's life."

Edited 2016-03-31 00:48 (UTC)

A smile tugs at the corner of Nick's mouth. Of all the places to get such encouragement, he can't say he expected it here, and from someone who looks more like a super mutant than a human being. Surprises come in all packages, though, and good people come in all kinds. He should know better than anyone that looks can be deceiving.

"You're not wrong, that's for certain. It's just figuring out where that point of divergence is, since... well, everything I am is based on another person. The way I think, the way I feel. Most synths back home aren't trusted, and with good reason. Shot on sight just for what they could do. I pass well enough as human because of my personality, but even that, I owe to the cop I'm just a copy of. Every decision I make... it all comes back to how he'd have done it."

He sighs. "But here I am, chewing your ear off when we're both out here for peace and quiet." Not that he could see any visible ears on the stranger to begin with. "At least I can blame that kind of behavior on the original Nick Valentine, too."

"I'm not one for extended conversation myself, at least not usually," Glacius admits, lifting one shoulder and tilting his head to that same side in the ice alien equivalent of a shrug, "But... far be it from me to prevent you from getting this sort of thing off your chest. Makers know it's been a relief for me too, finding someone who feels somewhat the same about all of this, who understands the prejudices that I have had to face. And I can at least promise you that I will not judge you on the person you used to be, but the person you are now."

Nick nods, glad to have found somewhat of a kindred spirit. "I appreciate that. Being something other than human has its advantages, especially in a place like this, but that doesn't mean it's easy. Folks are quick to judge, even without knowing exactly what I am. I'm betting you have it even worse when it comes to that. At least most can't tell what I am until they get a little closer."

He recalls something, and lets out a single laugh to preface it. "My first week here, one of the gods buried us alive. Half of us, at least. The other half were given some shovels and coordinates by the other two, and told to go dig us up. The woman who dug me up -- we talk now, but at the time, she didn't know me from Adam. The look she gave me said she'd have rather left me down there."

Edited 2016-03-31 05:42 (UTC)

"I... who is Adam?" Glacius asks, a slight tilt to his head like he's not entirely sure if that is important to the story or not. There are other questions, of course--if this person is a synth, was being buried underground a threat to him? Does he even need to breathe? But he instead discards those, not wanting to be insensitive, and goes for a scoff instead. "A part of me wants to ask why the gods buried you alive, and then a part of me feels like I don't care, because none of the answers would justify it. There must be some way, to make them realize that they cannot simply treat us like dirt..."

Alright, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words, given Nick's anecdote.

Another smile appears, this one aimed less at the stranger's confusion and more at himself for using such an idiom in front of someone who is clearly not from his world. "'Knowing someone from Adam' is just an old saying we have back home. Some folks believe he was the first human around, made from the earth by a benevolent god. It's a little like this place, save for the gods aren't benevolent and rather than making us from the dirt, they'd put us six feet under it and call it a day."

So yes, Nick did catch that unintentional wordplay.

"You tried talking to any of them yet? They show up sometimes on the network they've got around here."

To illustrate his point, he pulls out his own communicator, fishing it from his coat pocket with his skeletal, metal hand.

Glacius is about to ask why his rescuer would have rather left him in the ground if she couldn't tell him apart from a human, but then Nick is fishing out his communicator and that snatches up the alien's attention. He has one himself, but he doesn't use it as often as most. He's generally not very enthusiastic about having his hear up against a bunch of human chatter, though sometimes it can be useful for getting information...

"I have not. I remember seeing... Delight, I think it was, making a post upon her resurrection. But it is very odd to me to think that supposed 'gods' spend their time communicating with us all so commonly. And... I am not sure what I would even say to them, outside of demanding my freedom, which I imagine would only get scoffed at." For now, laying low and being a quiet observer seems to be the wiser option. He doesn't want to reveal his hand, or his vested interest in escaping the city.

Nick runs his thumb along the screen of his communicator as he listens; the device doesn't seem to work as well with the bare metal as it does with the hand that still has some synthetic skin on it. It's inconvenient, but not having such a tool would be even more so. It's not optimal for everyone, but he finds it's a handy little gadget, one he could certainly use back home.

If he ever gets back home, that is.

"It is odd behavior from ones claiming to be gods," he agrees, "but I'll take whatever information they're able to offer. While I doubt it's all reliable, it's better than nothing, and any clues we can get as to how this place works could help us in the long run. It also doesn't hurt to get a feeling for how their kind operates."

"I suppose not," Glacius replies, blinking in mild surprise as the synth makes his points. He's supposed to be the one who approaches everything with a cool head, and yet here he is letting his frustrations with these gods get in the way of potential planning... he needs some time to rest, to calm his mind. This is all still too raw--and yet it doesn't seem as though he's likely to get any of that any time soon, not with the constant partying going on in the background.

The alien huffs, leaning back against the bench, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. "Nothing is ever simple, is it? When I go home I may never go off-world again. Exploring the universe was much more freeing when I wasn't aware of the true depths of the depravity and corruption that is out there."

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Event log: How Delightful

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