Intro Log: Eight Legs No Heart

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for June.
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: June 10th-15th
Warnings: Spiders. Soooo many spiders. New people. Probably swearing.

For once, the new arrivals to Hadriel will not be waking up on the cold hard ground of the colosseum. Oh, sure, you'll still awaken in the arena - but this time the Door has been kind enough to ensure that you wake up comfortably arranged in a very nice chair. Or maybe not so comfortably. Some of those look pretty awkward - hopefully you didn't wake up with a crick in your neck! And hey, feel free to try to drag some of these super cool chairs to your new homes. They're probably not cursed or anything.

As you make your way out of the arena, be careful getting to close to the walls - well, except that's the only way out, so good luck! Chilling up on there waiting to get the drop on you are Skulltulas. These funky-looking spiders have squishy underbellies, but their upper exoskeletons are hard and very difficult to break through. They really just want to nibble you a few times, and maybe suck out all of your blood. No big deal, right? Have fun!

Have you conquered your arachnophobia and managed to escape? Great! Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers June 10th-15th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[synthedick]

[Don't think that cane had gone unnoticed, Doc. It's one of the reasons Nick figured they should find someplace with a chair. His eyes follow Hermann's wave toward the shelves.]

I just came in to see what they had. Mostly looking for anything I can salvage for parts. [ For obvious reasons, as well as less obvious ones, like how he'd like to save his roommate some trouble.] There's no money here, so you take what you need.

[verinumeri]

[ In fact, he hasn't thought a single thing about his cane. He may have been surprised by the consideration. Pleasantly. ]

As a precaution for the future or are you needing something immediately?

[ He asks while turning back to the supply, considering. Anything would do and everything looks fantastic. Take what you need -- and searching anew for parts -- ]

Does the variety change when they restock?

[ He'd once calculated the rate of renewal at Haven, though it had been a trial and subject to error. There weren't a few nice stores, after all, except in Haven North, and even then, the general look was always emptied. They had to regularly scavenge, searching in the debris of houses and stores for cans. In Haven North, which was restored, it was still a matter of searching out the cupboards with a can 'left' behind. The people would pick a place clean, but within a month (the period of days changed), something else might be found, if not in the same spot.

Quite a lot of spam. Dry noodles. Gardening attempts tended to get destroyed sooner or later, though there had been periods with access to limited fresh vegetables.

At the moment, he's looking between a bag of rice cakes and a package of chocolate milk boxes. Boggling. ]

[synthedick]

Precaution.

[Though there are definitely things he could use immediately, he's not about to reveal that to just anyone, no matter how earnest they seem. He sticks near Hermann in his perusal of the store, ready to offer to help carry anything that should catch his interest. That trench coat and all its pockets aren't just for show.]

And as for variety, it changes only a little. What's stocked in here is put here by one of the folks who run this city. They call themselves gods, but they flatter themselves.

[verinumeri]

[ He would understand. That, too, is precaution, and Hermann favors it in all forms.

Peanut butter! Nutella.

Yes, perhaps the latter, and a box of crackers to start. He tucks the box beneath his left arm and holds the jar with that hand. He can return later, after finding housing, rather than force the obliging synth -- Mr. Valentine, he reminds himself -- to wait for his 'grocery shopping'. Of a sort.

Turning toward the door, Hermann smirks at that last comment. ]

Do they? Glad to hear it. How disappointing if the people here actually took to worshiping them.

[synthedick]

Trust me, I don't think anyone would be doing that after the messes they've made.

[And will make. He'll lead the way to the door, but first:]

You prefer coffee, or tea? I can haul what we're taking for now. Got nothing else to carry.

[verinumeri]

[ Of course there are messes. Even without the Haven possibility. This entire situation speaks to that, to the largest of the messes, and besides, they reek of the sort of incompetence found in the Greek gods.

It may not be surprising, but he'll have to ask once at Mr. Valentine's house. Best to get a sense of what to expect.

He stares at the question, torn by the meaningful choice. Both he'd so longed for in Haven, having once had the opportunity for both. The tea Newton had managed to secure, and the instant, rather awful (but in the moment incredible) coffee in the jail within the prison.

So he must really think about it. ]

Coffee. No, tea. ...No, I think coffee.

[ In fact, he's so struck by the question, he forgets the offer. It clicks back into place as a pending query once he's decided. ]

Oh. No, thank you.

[ It might be easier, but sometimes he insists on carrying things himself. Plus, it's food. If it was Newton, it would be different. An irrational impulse, really, given the surplus of it. ]

[synthedick]

All right.

[No harm in not taking his offer, but no harm in him making it, either.

While he's pretty sure they have some coffee at the apartment -- one of the food items he'd grabbed for any rare occasion when they have company -- Nick gets another tin of it just in case, as well as some tea. Never know if the doctor will change his mind. After that, he heads to the door, holding it open for his companion.]

The houses aren't far from here. Just a short walk down the main drag.

[verinumeri]

[ Though soundly chastised for his egregious faux pas, Hermann cannot manage to stop staring as they start. At least his attention is not obsessive to the point of oblivion to all else; he notes, for example, just where the tea and coffee can be found.

He nods his thanks at the door, passing through it. His fingers shift on his cane's handle as he squints, eyes adjusting to the -- is it artificial light? Under what meaning of artificial? It hasn't moved in the "sky" since. Here he looks away from Mr. Valentine, instead thoughtfully up. ]

Lead the way, if you please.

[synthedick]

[Nick takes the lead, heading toward the houses. He's right in that it is a short walk -- the homes are in sight only after a minute or two.]

Aside from the houses, there are apartments in the tall spires.

[He nods toward Spire 4 across the way.]

Like the stores, you just find an empty one, take whichever you need. The streets aren't exactly safe most days, especially just after the Door brings in new people. I recommend finding yourself a place to sleep before it gets too dark, so I'll try not to chew your ear off.

[verinumeri]

[ Short is appreciated. Hermann wouldn't complain over a longer one, but it does make a difference. Interesting architecture, still. It does a reasonable job at looking different from Haven, feeling different, for all that once can trust a feeling. Only thing -- the spirals.

He cannot pinpoint the precise moment the madness began. It's been gone since the poison, but he's still wary of looking directly at anything related. Something of a problem here.

As if, apparently, there wasn't enough to worry about, but that's not unusual, either.

At least he gets to be briefly distracted by what likely no one else would find charming -- a synth using a figure of speech like 'chew your ear off'. Hermann smiles, which is perhaps an odd reaction to that bit of advice. ]

That is on the list, yes. Whatever keeps the beasts in the tunnels cannot generally be trusted, then?

[synthedick]

What keeps the beasts in the tunnels is one of the gods, a fella by the name of Hope. He keeps his word most days, but there's been a time or two he left us to our own devices. Said we were exhausting.

[Into the housing area they go, beelining for the walkway to 1401.]

We've got a city guard up and running, just in case he decides to take a another break and let what comes in come in. It's just volunteer patrols and such, but it's better than leaving all our security to them.

[verinumeri]

[ Dryly. ] How inconsiderate of us.

[ Exhausting the poor 'god'. While safety from beasts must be appreciated, it's impossible to feel badly for someone who took on the responsibility. For other reasons, as well.

Following, of course.

He brightens at the mention of a guard. They had been an absurdly disorganized lot in Haven, such efforts so often fruitless (Hermann simply never a leader type nor able to participate in such thing). A proper city guard with patrols keeping an eye for monsters? Brilliant. ]

Well, that's a comfort. Even if they're only effective against the monsters, it's something.

[synthedick]

I agree. I'll take something over nothing when it comes to protecting the folks around here.

[He gets to the front door and opens it for his companion. The odd, curved architecture aside, it is definitely what one might expect from a home inside: there's a living area in the center of the main room, a laundry room visible on one side, a kitchen further back, a stairwell in the far wall. It's definitely not the kind of utilitarian dwelling one might expect from a guy who is more machine than person.

He gestures toward the couch and the easy chair.]

Take a seat, and I'll see if I can't make you some coffee. I usually left that to my secretary back home, since she was the one who drank the stuff.

[verinumeri]

[ A nice statement. A very nice statement. Hermann's half-approving and half-curious -- coded morality or truly developed personality? It may be rude to think like that, but he cannot help it. He'll need to monitor each thought.

Having gone first to the store, he has yet to see the interior of any of the houses or apartments. They look much cozier, more welcoming than Haven's offering. Mustn't get complacent. Mustn't believe it, not entirely. The safer thought, then: does Mr. Valentine sleep?

His mouth quirks at the mention of a secretary. He had a secretary. ]

I could help, if you like. I've made plenty.

[ Not as a secretary. Early mornings and late nights and the many times they bled together in the lab. ]

[synthedick]

[Somehow, Nick had a feeling that was the case -- he has yet to meet someone on the scientifically-minded end who doesn't drink a lot of coffee and spend a lot of nights working late. That's one of those things that didn't change just because the bombs dropped.]

Not sure what kind of a host that makes me, having a guest make his own drink.

[verinumeri]

[ Hermann smirks. ]

Try it like this, then: what kind of a host would it make you to offer a bad cup?

[ He refrains from adding that his standards are currently exceedingly low and he would be satisfied with anything. Not to mention too polite to say otherwise. He'd like to help -- it would offset the lingering shame of his initial reaction. ]

[synthedick]

[That gets a smile from Nick.]

Heh. Good point.

[He heads into the kitchen, setting the coffee tin down and motioning toward the coffee pot.]

Have at it, Doc.

[He busies himself in the meantime, digging through the cabinets for a mug.]

[verinumeri]

[ Following, Hermann picks up the tin, pausing push his glasses onto his face, to read the preparation instructions. There are two reasons for this, though of course he knows how to make a pot of coffee: (1) he remains inordinately pleased with the ability to read anything, any text on any object, especially as mundane as food; and (2) sometimes the advice differed by bean and brand. In fact, Newton had gone off more than once about the chemistry in coffee, how to make a good cup, what really came alive with a coffee press, and though Hermann usually tuned him out -- Newton did make it better.

He hadn't intended to think of that.

Hermann shakes his head, his mouth briefly thin. The instructions will do and he sets to them, measuring it out with the provided scoop. ]

Do you drink it?

[synthedick]

[Finally finding a suitable mug, he heads to the sink to give it a wash. No telling how long it's been since someone used it.]

I can. Not particularly a necessity, though.

[verinumeri]

[ Hermann snorts. ]

It isn't a necessity for anyone, you know, synthetic or organic. Since you can, would you like one?

[ Now the water. ]

[synthedick]

I'll pass, but I appreciate the offer.

[He sets the mug by the coffee maker for Hermann to use once he's finished with the brew.]

So I believe you had some questions for me?

[verinumeri]

[ With the water and grinds in place, Hermann switches it on. It's an odd looking machine, but Mr. Valentine had indicated it would produce coffee, and it seems to have the right parts.

Idly, he wonders if Mr. Valentine has the taste for it -- then, whether he can taste. Which makes his question timely, though likely he should prioritize. ]

Oh -- certainly. Do you mind the technical and intrusive? Or should we keep with the need-to-know of this place?

[synthedick]

Honestly, Doc, most people don't even ask if I mind intrusive questions before springing them on me.

[Much like Hermann earlier, but Nick gives him a half-smile as he continues.]

Now I can't guarantee I can answer everything you want to know. There are unfortunately some things about myself that are as much a mystery to me as they are to everyone else.

[verinumeri]

[ The half-smile makes it clear enough. Hermann suppresses a cringe, but mirrors it, though his smile doesn't quite make half. ]

Understood. Perhaps it would be simpler to begin, then, by asking what you don't know. ...Granted, on it's face, that's a contradiction. If you can speak to it, I mean, and it isn't too personal.

[ 'Personal' he selects with deliberation, as much for his own purposes. He must remind himself. ]

[synthedick]

[Nick appreciates the word choice. He might not consider himself human, but he does like feeling the part.]

Well, I can't tell you much about where I was made or who put me together. The folks who make the synths back home are called the Institute, and they're as elusive as they come.