Phantasmal Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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phantasmalrift2018-06-10 11:47 pm
phantasmods) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-06-10 11:47 pm
Entry tags:
IC INTRO - JUNE '18
After the fight with the siren has settled, those characters with phones hooked to the KEystone network will get a text -
Okay, everyone, you had better come back in. There's a storm brewing just off the coast.
Even given Up's usual professionalism, it seems rather... subdued?
----
For once, there are no androids at all to greet you upon your return, or arrival, as the case may be. A shelter has been set up for the boats on the shoreline of Glitterstone, however. By the time you tromp up the lighthouse stairs to the level of the Station itself, the sky is beginning to grey with the promised storm.
There's not the typical feast outside, but there is a fairly extensive taco bar set up in the common room, left unattended as well. The room sign-up sheet and boxes of freebies are also there, complete with the Braille versions, and a note at the bottom of both room sheets reads "If all rooms are full, space has been made in the meeting rooms on the top floor. We'll have additional rooms available as soon as possible."
It does appear that someone has updated the murder counter while you were away, however, for the turning of the week. It now reads 15 weeks without murder.
Other than that, you're free to explore, including in the newly finished sections of the Annex (should you be willing to brave the storm to get between buildings). However, wherever you go, the androids are almost conspicuously absent - even in the medical bay and Down's workstation in the command center.
The meeting room they have for their own private use is securely closed and locked.
Okay, everyone, you had better come back in. There's a storm brewing just off the coast.
Even given Up's usual professionalism, it seems rather... subdued?
----
For once, there are no androids at all to greet you upon your return, or arrival, as the case may be. A shelter has been set up for the boats on the shoreline of Glitterstone, however. By the time you tromp up the lighthouse stairs to the level of the Station itself, the sky is beginning to grey with the promised storm.
There's not the typical feast outside, but there is a fairly extensive taco bar set up in the common room, left unattended as well. The room sign-up sheet and boxes of freebies are also there, complete with the Braille versions, and a note at the bottom of both room sheets reads "If all rooms are full, space has been made in the meeting rooms on the top floor. We'll have additional rooms available as soon as possible."
It does appear that someone has updated the murder counter while you were away, however, for the turning of the week. It now reads 15 weeks without murder.
Other than that, you're free to explore, including in the newly finished sections of the Annex (should you be willing to brave the storm to get between buildings). However, wherever you go, the androids are almost conspicuously absent - even in the medical bay and Down's workstation in the command center.
The meeting room they have for their own private use is securely closed and locked.
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[Hey, Jetshard, you've seen the 'please ask me about my new quadrant fill' pre-gushing face before, haven't you?]
Manifestation of a magical contract.
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She takes a spot on the couch next to him, and grins as she prompts -] Well, go on, it's transparently clear you'd like to elaborate.
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[Well, he's busted. Verity sniffs at Jetshard's knee as she sits, but seems content to remain in her current position.]
Am I that obvious? I suppose I am, but, well.
[Jetshard is the best at embarrassing him.]
Astolfo's kept my spirits up since the beginning. I couldn't very well do anything else when I found out that he normally needs magical energy from someone to sustain himself.
[Even if it means taking even more naps.]
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Anyway, the increased strain on his magical resources is concerning, but... his good cheer is contagious.]
I didn't realize he was vulnerable like that - I'm glad you're able to support him.
[The way he puts it, it's impossible not to think in terms of a moirallegiance, and she has to admit that he and Astolfo are a very good match.]
Mind you, this means I'm going to have no scruples about enlisting his help in any efforts to get you to take better care of yourself.
[She's... probably at least kind of joking? Look. She's a jadeblood. Jades meddle.]
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Which they probably won't, even if a crescent moon holding a diamond would make a nice low-key quadrant tattoo.]
The environmental magic is apparently enough for him for now, but given how much things fluctuate around here, I wasn't satisfied without some kind of insurance policy.
[He folds his hand briefly over the mark before extending his hand so she can get a clearer look - really, that's too bright a red for a tattoo, and it doesn't have the slight scarring a tattoo would. It's as though the mark, a sword with two wings sprouting from one side of the hilt, was simply part of his skin from the beginning.]
You wouldn't have scruples about it anyway and we both know it.
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[She takes his hand in hers to take a closer look, running the pad of her thumb lightly over the mark as she does so, and - well, it's not as if she hadn't been smiling before, but her smile broadens, the kind of grin that shows her teeth and that around here she mostly reserves for people who she's confident are comfortable with her inhuman nature.]
Congratulations.
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He's irrational and keeps me buoyed up like the moon pulls at the tide. There might be other people in the swath of the multiverse who'd do the same, but he's the one that's mine.
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He's good people. I'm glad for you.
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I was telling myself that I wasn't going to get attached to anyone again so strongly, at least not so quickly, but there's only so long I can fight gravity. I like the edge of unpredictability he gives things, it keeps me from stagnating.
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[She releases his hand, and settles in a little on the couch next to him; not leaning, but not making any effort to avoid incidental contact, either.]
And I don't think fifteen weeks is so very quick a turnaround on forming commitments. Not when we're all pushed into a situation where we're dependent on one another anyway.
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True enough. Especially in my case, going so long without any major socialization at all.
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['Brother in law' probably culturally maps to some kind of quadrant corner whatever human relationships: a mess.]
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Well, I did say "semi-".
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That you did. I'll manage, I'm sure.