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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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[There's a clear shift in his tone towards one of a nostalgic fondness.]
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[He considers those words, and how they're spoken with fondness... There is no one he knows of back home who he could speak of like that.
That isolating feeling still remains, even though he's met others here... Why?]
Is it lonely here? Being the only one of your kind? Unless there's someone else I've yet to meet.
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[Even in surrounding himself with others, he always kept himself at a distance. He had not considered even his own men his friends - they were only united by a shared cause, and that was all that mattered.
A detachment and isolation was what he expected, what he chose. He was fine with that; it prepared him for seeing off those that he had become close to, some long time ago, and to avoid that pain coming from others in the future.
Did he really need to keep this up though? He was stuck here, whether he liked it or not, and everything he prioritized over connecting with others was gone. Now what he had been avoiding was becoming more and more prominent, and loneliness was starting to feel less of an active choice.
When Carnivac looks at him, his gaze doesn't quite meet Shido.]
I don't think species factors into it.
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No, I suppose it doesn't.
[Despite knowing people here, the feeling of isolation, of loneliness persists like a curse...]
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[Or, rather, 'why do you care?']
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It probably doesn't come as much of a surprise to you that I don't have a single person that I could have called a friend back where I came from. I managed to convince myself companionship was meaningless and unreliable, especially when it came to getting what I need and fast. I've felt lonely for years, but it was only recently that it became... [His brow furrows.] more apparent.
[He shakes his head.] Now that I'm here and more open to the idea, though, I somehow feel like the odd one out. Perhaps... not in terms of story, but in... culture. Personality, maybe. People here are friendly and surprisingly tolerant and open-minded... yet I feel disconnected.
[A bit of a sigh as he looks down.] I would hardly be surprised if the problem lies in me.
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He can't deny that the feeling resonates with him in some way, though that thought alone isn't one he's eager to acknowledge.]
You hoped you weren't alone in your isolation?
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No, nothing like that. It's not a feeling I would wish on anyone.
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[There's no judgement, just a complete lack of understanding.]
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... it was an offer of sorts. To commiserate. [He gives a bit of a hard-edged smirk as he turns his head away.] ... perhaps a part of me selfishly was hoping for just that after all...
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Well, if you're being honest I can only return the favor.
[There's a strange code of honor he has.]
I can't deny having a difficulty with connecting to the others here, and one I can't wholly blame on cultural differences. It feels like a lack of something, with very few reminders that I ever had it in the first place.
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[Maybe that's why at some point, he got so frustrated and just stopped trying. Attempting to genuinely connect with people was just too difficult...]
In which case, I apologize. It's not an enjoyable situation to be in.
[And yet for all his carefully hidden awkwardness, there doesn't seem to be an ounce of it when he says:]
Perhaps we can be awkward social outcasts together.
[The words are a bit harsh, but his tone isn't at all offensive. In fact, the small smile he offers is even some degree of genuine, and not just wry.]
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I can't let you go around making friends with that kind of opener.
[It's a yes.]
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Tell me I'm wrong.
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I'll find other opportunities to, I'm sure.