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 Posted: Thu Jun 09, 2016 10:17 pm
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You find yourself in a familiar setting. So familiar, in fact, that it could be considered a second hive -- between the garbage dump and a factory in the desert. Both bustling, underappreciated. One is always changing, always accumulating and purging. Each night a mountain of goods from the night before is added to the peaks and valleys of the trash landscape. A snapshot of Alternian Life can always be found in the contents of the dump, shifting like the sands of time. In the Fluid Redistribution Center, things are staid and steady. Night in and night out the fluids pump – fluids and processes that trolls have needed for eons. Regardless of the faceless trolls pulling the levers and turning the cranks, the sterile walls of the Center remain unchanged. Drones work as they always have, toiling and invisible even to most fringe groups.
The steps you make on the tiled floors upon entry echo with their familiar tone. You know the site well enough to end up wherever you want. Tonight is the first night. Where do you go?
1) The Northern Quadrant
2) The Southern Quadrant
3) The Main Station
4) Tour
Only Wizardy Herbert may post in this thread. Roleplay as much as you would like leading up to the Redistribution Center and then make a choice to visit one of the four areas available. When you do, quote the mule to receive your next prompt.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 6:36 pm
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You join the tour. A gaggle of trolls – clearly students from Chittentown’s Higher Schoolfeeding Facility – are already arranged around the speaker, who is set to begin in short time.
She is tall and thin, with her hair drawn into two buns on top of her head. Her name is Hydora Esspie, and today her face looks run down and pinched. She doles out a water bottle to each participant, and then she reaches you and a small pursed smile emerges.
“Ah, hello again.” She states, palming the bottle in her hand. It’s been long since she resisted giving away bottles to you – there really wasn’t any harm in it. At least, that’s what she had assured management. It wasn’t often someone was so invested in fluid redistribution. You know that she has a couple of gerbils at home that she saved from a storm in the desert during the WACKY. Hydora has a knitting habit (her gerbils end up in her works) and loves to tinker. Her lusus, a large multi-headed needlecreature, is staunchly rooted in place near the center and during the drought nearly perished. She relies on this center to live.
“Adamaz, right?” She pulls you aside. “Would you mind giving me a hand with my presentation today? I’m trying to get into the Engineering Program at the Higher Schoolfeeding Facility and one of the boardmembers is here with a class. You’ve taken this tour so much you’ve probably memorized it. Maybe ask some good questions I can answer to make myself look good? N-no worries if not, though.”
She waves her hands and flushes, her grey skin hazing over with a pea green hue. It’s time to begin the tour!
Wizardy Herbert The tour itself begins as normal – you pass through various parts of the plant, and occasionally Hydora will pause in her explanations for questions. How do you proceed? Quote the mule when you’re finished with the tour!
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2016 12:44 pm
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Adamaz had never before felt such a rush of authority and responsibility. He, a mere miscreant, asked to help out in such a wonderful venture as the Fluid Redistribution Station tour? He’d certainly outgrown LISTENING to the tour, but this moment… it was real. Really real. He chose his words carefully.
"Sure."
== ==
So throughout the tour, Adamaz wracked his brain for the most interesting questions he could come up with. He’d point at a pipe and ask "What’s that?" and at another, more wiggly-looking pipe and ask "What’s that do?" Realizing these questions were absolute trash, he started to ask things for which the answers were not merely "a pipe" or "redistribute fluids." This being the FRS, that was quite the challenge. He managed to come up with a few, usually about what fluids were being redistributed in each area, how much, and why. Adamaz even learned a thing or two; he wasn’t aware that this station was responsible for all the fluids even up on Busthind! He wondered if a pipe ran all the way to Panili’s, or if she had a well of some sort. Do they make Sopor Wells? He asked, and got a less than satisfying answer. Oh well. He’d just ask Panili later.
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2016 7:31 pm
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You’ve reached the water facility. The enormous rushing sounds of pipes seem to drown everything out as usual – it’s not a great spot to chat or think. None the less, you do spot a few drones hustling here and there and a supervisor down below the catwalk checking the gauges. You haven’t talked with these drones before. Their identities seem to be as indiscernible as grains of sand.
But, as you watch, you begin to recognize them. It’s odd, having been here so often – their work patterns are one thing, but now you can tell them apart by their gait. The cut-off horns are still unique, in their own way, and even hidden by hardhats you can spot how they sit differently on each head.
The blueblooded drone is usually the one who takes serious labor. Their many bruises, scrapes and burns from the pipes are telling. They stick around their orangeblooded buddy, who – while much more dimunitive – tends to be the fixer. It’s easy to fit into nooks and crannies, and with the extra agility afforded from their size the two make a great pair. Sometimes they smile at each other. There’s a couple of yellowbloods who seem to switch off on the work. But lazy as they are, they seem to get along okay with the supervisor – for drones, that is.
Lots of time passes, and your spongeclots are ringing. You notice that shifts have changed – the previous few trolls stride across the metal surface, and one of the drones gives you a wave.
It’s getting fairly late, now. Visiting and touring hours are nearly over, and before you can leave, Hydora catches up with you in the North Quadrant. It’s so loud she has to shout.
“Hey!! Adamaz! I got a personal note from one of the mentors from the school!! Hey… I’ve gotta split, um – come back tomorrow! I’ll meet you in the Main Station, okay??? OKAY! BYE!”
It is now the dawn of the first night. Quote the mule when you're ready for day two!
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Posted: Fri Dec 23, 2016 10:58 am
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Adamaz remains in the North Quadrant only for a moment longer before leaving to catch an evening bus to Busthind. The moon is only just beginning to get low in the sky, and the last bus will be off and away in an hour or two. You only have to miss that bus once to never risk missing it again, though.
He had not realized before that he had come to know the FRS drones by sight. He hadn't even been to the FRS in a long time, and their gaits and personalities are still distinct as day. Adamaz thinks back and remembers the drones in the rebel tunnels long ago, falling in battle and blood - though it was a very scary time for little Adamaz, he remembers it now with only a face drawn in sadness. Did anyone know their walks? Had anyone, before now, thought of those drones since they died? He thought of kind Mr. Ioyana who had sprung into action to help the children first - the most vulnerable. He would have defenestrated himself before letting them get hurt - would he have had the same reaction to the drones? Adamaz liked to think so.
The bus was on time and Adamaz scuttled a handful of beetles into the faire. He, and the roach in his hair, stared out the window in silent contemplation. The mountain dawn was patient enough for Adamaz to return to his dirty Busthind home, and though the dawn had already begun to warm the air, Adamaz's hands are cold as he slips into his recuperacoon. As is custom, he falls asleep pretty much immediately. It never fails.
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Posted: Sat Dec 30, 2017 4:12 pm
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(this growth was continued via discord and is now finished)
Quote: Adamaz went to bed knowing he needed to meet Hydora at the main station the next day - he was not aware of when. So as dusk started to creep through the windows, Adamaz remained snug in his recuperacoon, unmoved from when he hopped in hours ago. A few hours pass, and Papa Roach began to fear he will not meet Hydora in time. His feelers firmly grasped the end of the recuperacoon and began jostling it vigorously. After about 10 straight minutes, Adamaz' eyes snapped open and he began getting ready for the day. That is to say, he went downstairs and picked a fresh-er piece of fruit from the fridge and headed, already fully dressed from yesterday, to the bus stop.
Hydora is present when you arrive, but she is talking over an intercom in harried tones. "Can anyone from the city come? No? Please! We can't - we aren't equipped for this with our staff of drones," Clearly, the line has been dropped.
She turns and looks to you - clearly in panic. "Hey, this is a bad time - there's an emergency in the Southern Quadrant and we're in danger. No one's coming... You should g-get out!"
Where do you go?
1) Home
2) Southern Quadrant
Quote: Adamaz stared blankly at Hydora. It took him at least a second or two to realize... something was HAPPENING at the Fluid Redistribution Station. Something more than drips and loud noises and valves and drones. His eyes widened. Adamaz turned from Hydora without a word and bolted out down the hallway towards the main station exit. Adamaz ran very little and was not fast but he didn’t slow down until he was almost out of the facility when he was struck with a terrible worry. What if that valve Chiara messed with so long ago was what caused the emergency? Adamaz’ breath lodged in his throat. His footsteps slowed as he exited the facility, then sped back up as he looped around towards the fence to sneak right back in. If the first and definitely only accident to ever happen in the FRC ever was caused by Adamaz in some way, he had to know. 2) Southern Quadrant
The Southern Quadrant was in chaos. A tinny bleat of a siren signalled some kind of pressure incident. The results could be deadly.
The management had fled the scene - this was apparent enough by the scattered drones chittering about in the deepest workings of the Quadrant, lit by red emergency lights and all alone amidst an emergency. The front line, the dispendables.
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A drone that you recognize clambers through the quadrant, running along the footpath from a sector off-limits to visitors. You’ve seen inside on your many tours, familiarized yourself with the piping and valves, but have never been in the room. The windows you’ve come to know are fogged up with steam from overboiled, searing fluids. The drone waves you down.
“Y-you!! It’s you! Did the military send you? Help- p-please!”
They grab your hand, and before you know it you’re in a vast workroom standing on an upper catwalk. Below, roiling waters flow. A drone is stranded above.
“We’ve been told to evacuate, b-but… They’re going to leave him! We have to… We have to…” They’re shaking. Tears and moisture from the air sticking to their skin, soaking you both in the pressure cooker of the FRC. The other drone begins to break down, wheezing heavily. The siren screams - alarm lights casting swimming red lights over the hazy room - the water rises.
What do you do?
Quote: Adamaz is speechless, his heartbeat rises. He had never been spoken to by drones before. He had seen these ones around so often, but for the first time Adamaz realizes that they have seen him too. Adamaz is rarely seen. A chance passing leads to a brief friendship. An invitation or flyer may lead him into the middle of something huge, but he his on the sidelines, never being directly involved. When he is seen, he is looked down on - Tamiya, Chiara - which he has never minded. But here... they are looking up to him. He looks at the drone who came to him, and to the drone on the platform just above the boiling flood. They are rarely seen, either. Adamaz doesn't do any more thinking. A familiar feeling from long ago blooms in Adamaz's stomach - a crystalline resolve he last felt as he left the dark swamp after freeing Tevini. He leaps from the catwalk to the platform below. The drone cries out warning him - it's too late. The added weight causes the strained platform to topple. The drone and Adamaz (and a screaming Papa Roach) tumble into the boiling water in a flash of light. That feeling in his stomach becomes biting and cold - it snakes through his chest up to his brain. His vision whites out in a flash of pain. From above, the frightened drone sees an orange, crystalline cocoon form around Adamaz and their companion: a diamond barrier shining, bright and adamant. The boiling water crashes against this crystal shield, and parts in a burning spray. Immobile, it weathers the tide. A new klaxon begins to blare - the drone on the catwalk evacuates. There is a sudden surge of water that explodes into the room, rattling every wall, every pipe. Catwalks are rattled from their bolts and fall into the wake. Beneath the tide, the crystal barrier persists - endures. Not long afterwards, the shutoff valves kick in. The entire quadrant is cut off to prevent further loss and to assess damage and repairs. Hovering just above where a platform once stood shimmers the opaque diamond, still holding fast, still shining. After a few moments, it bursts into glittering particles that quickly fade, and a bewildered drone and a semiconscious child fall to the floor. Papa Roach rolls out of Adamaz' hair, having fainted from all the excitement. The drone prods the boy's lusus, who awakens, and gets the boy to his feet. The drone and the roach quickly start pulling Adamaz out of the facility. Adamaz is in a daze, not fully comprehending that he had done something incredible. Drones are staring at him. They know him, but his pupils weren't diamond-shaped before. Papa Roach is so proud of his special boy. He's not much to look at, but he'd always seen Adamaz as a diamond in the rough.
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