etrayalogs | MISSION 001

Entry tags:

MISSION 001

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: March 29th-April 20th
WHERE: Everywhere on Etraya
WHAT: Mission 001!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential violence, death.

⏵ mission prep ⏴
On the morning of the 29th, characters will receive a notification from Aurora to come to the hospital’s ground floor to prepare for their first mission. On this floor, pairs will be given slips of paper with matching numbers. If characters have chosen their partners, they too will receive small slips of paper with matching numbers, as these numbers match the room assignment they will be asked to please step inside.

The rooms themselves are bare. There’s a cot, two chairs pushed up against a small table, a miniature fridge set up below a sink, and a television that only plays static. On the table is a note, which simply reads:

Welcome. To prepare you for your first mission, we are giving you time to get to know your partner. You have a twelve-hour time limit to discuss your lives together. We recommend talking about moments throughout your life that have defined the person you have become. In addition, we have included several ingredients inside the miniature refrigerator. You must, without telling your partner specifically what it is, create their favorite drink using the ingredients within and above the refrigerator.

Do not attempt to cheat. Do not make your own drink.

If you pass, you will both be given two points and the door will unlock. If you fail, you may try again with the same partner or a new partner may be reassigned to you.

Good luck.

Within the mini fridge will be numerous ingredients - these ingredients could be anything, from Bantha milk to dragon fruit - whatever their favorite drinks are, they will find all the correct ingredients to make them. There will also be numerous extra ingredients. Maybe a character’s favorite drink is a nice cup of peppermint tea. The kettle, and the tea bags, will be present on top of the mini fridge, but there may also be soda bottles inside the fridge and various milk substitutes. Cheating by making their own drink will result in the game being reset, and a new partner being assigned or no partner at all being assigned and they will simply be removed from this part of the exercise.

⏵ the secret's out⏴
Numerous notes can be found throughout Etraya’s populated areas - falling from the sky, taped to doors, slid under them, or perhaps being handed out by a few of the companion bots who will eagerly note how these are meant to help, but a quick read may show that they’re not things anyone wants to be given out so freely.

After all, on the notes are secrets, untold truths, things that were never meant to be shared nor wanted out in the open. Some of these aren’t notes at all, but small packages that are not addressed to anyone in particular, or addressed to the incorrect party. Inside the packages are items that may be associated with a particular event: a knife that had been used to betray a friend still stained with blood, a mask meant to conceal identity, a picture featuring a moment in time that had best been left forgotten.

The goal of the game becomes clear by the notes written on the back or thin slips within the packages: match the secret to the person. You could simply ignore them, but the note also includes an addendum: more notes will continue to be sent until the person is matched to their secret.

⏵ cracked reflection ⏴

Every person is an intricate mosaic, composed of numerous facets that shape what makes them - themselves.

After all, one person is not simply one picture, but rather, a puzzle comprised of myriad pieces. These pieces may shape their strengths, their sense of humor, the influences of their upbringing, and who they admired in their formative years. Together, these fragments coalesce into a singular form: you.

But what if those pieces were rearranged? What if the fundamental aspects that define who you are simply… didn’t exist? What if, rather than being a courageous hero, you were cast as a formidable villain? What if, instead of pursuing the path that led you to greatness, you veered in a different direction?

A new dawn breaks over Etraya. The artificial sun rises over the horizon, accompanied by the melodic chirping of birds. As the denizens of Etraya awaken, they sense... a shift in the air - a feeling of dissonance, as if a piece of themselves has suddenly gone missing. Because it has.

Doubles of every current inhabitant of Etraya roam the corridors of the apartment building and the surrounding facilities. They let themselves into Roxx to get a few new outfits, get themselves a meal at the hospital cafeteria, or maybe they’re raiding the snack shelves at Kwik Trip. They may bear a striking resemblance to their counterpart and act very similarly, but there is something off about them. A quality that sets them apart. Remember that step you took, that led you to your current career? The step you’ve kept secret for so long, that has defined your actions ever since? They didn’t take it. They went down a different path, something darker, or perhaps something lighter. They took the path you most feared, the one you knew would turn out terribly. And they in turn - turned out for the worst.

Characters will find they are facing one of their worst fears: themselves, but their worst selves. The version of them that they fought so hard not to become, that they strove against rather than towards. And the mission? They need to take out their worst selves.

But there’s a twist: interaction with their doubles isn’t possible. Both halves are cognizant of each other’s existence, yet they are incapable of verbally or physically interacting with each other. And while the double understands what they are, the original? Well… how do you truly know you are who you’re supposed to be? What if you were the double all along? What if you are your own worst self?

There is one way to be sure: the color of the copies’ blood is slightly darker than what it should be. Running closer to a red-black than the red you would anticipate. Or for some, perhaps their blood is red where it should be running black. While they feel and look real, driving a unique blade straight through where their heart would be will cause doubles to dissipate into nothing once the knife penetrates deep enough. As for the genuine articles, well, the blade is sharp—and it’s going to hurt.

A blade is provided for every authentic copy. Those who were sleeping through the night will find it beside them upon awakening. As for those who remain vigilant throughout the night, the blade will manifest beside them in the early hours of April 2nd.

Guess someone is going to have to kill your double.

⏵ quicksilver has no sense of tact ⏴

Aurora’s announcement left out several crucial details: the existence of the doubles, for one. But also the looming deadline to take care of the mess that has been dropped onto Etraya. Inside the characters’ wrists, they will discover a timer gradually counting down. The timers are only visible for the person who dons it, as is the amount of time given. Every person is given an individual time limit, but it cannot be longer than two weeks. As the numbers dwindle, more black marks appear going up the inside of their arms toward the inside of their elbow. And what are the black marks?

With each additional black mark, they begin to feel… less like themselves, and more like their doppelgangers. In the beginning, maybe they barely notice the change. Maybe it’s a favorite food they loved that they now hate, or perhaps it’s an event that has shifted: something small but important - a decision to save a life changed to taking one. Maybe they’ll feel like a piece of themselves is no longer the same, replaced with another feeling or sensation. Where something would have usually made them empathetic to another's blight, now they find their suffering funny. Regardless, the longer their doubles are around, the longer they slowly begin to become their doubles - and their doubles begin to become just like them.

If their doppelganger is not taken out at the end of their provided time, it will simply dissipate and the original will remain changed. The only way to return to normal is to kill the original. After death, the character will remain dead for twenty-four hours before returning to their normal selves as if the death had never occurred. While killing them to return them to normal is information Aurora will readily share, no one will inform them that they will simply return to normal by April 20th.

⏵ OOC ⏴
Welcome to the first mission! For any questions relating to this mission please reply below. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

Please note that while ICly, characters are not given a choice, players can choose which missions they wish for their characters to participate in. They may have missed receiving room assignments, or their secrets may not have been dropped, or a copy may not have shown up for them. This may not always be an option in future missions!

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( yanno, she can respect a healthy fear for any type of infectious strain. wasn't that long ago something as simple as strep throat warranted an entire section of the ark being closed off in quarantine, or the flu would do more for population reduction than any mass culling could. but that doesn't serve to shake the underlying sensation of insult here. not centered around the accusation of being mammalian, she is; this is also just the first time her tissue color has been questioned out loud. )

I haven't seen any of my other internal organs on the outside, but I lost this ( smacks the roof of the kidney jar, this bad boy could have filtered so much extra fluid and waste — ) two years ago.

( a jerk of her chin directly at damian here. ) He and I met almost two weeks ago, and we're both still alive. Can't that be enough for you?

[ Tim lets his gaze sweep from Clarke to Damian, where his eyebrow nearly rockets off his forehead, and then back to Clarke. ]

You want to use the one who claimed the lost spine as proof of health? You have no idea who he is or what medical treatments he's received.

I also have my spleen.

( unlike immunocompromised tim over here. damian isn't too concerned over potential diseases, especially given she has been here long enough to have spread them around. it might have a long incubation period, her defensiveness is making him slightly more concerned, but.

really, he's just curious as to why it is darker. )

( you have no idea who he is or what medical treatments he's received — ) Yeah, because he dodged my question!

( a majority of the time clarke griffin presents as a tired, put upon soul. hyper vigilant in the way she's always scanning a room, grasping at every material item around in the named of preparedness, friendly and open to the world around her only when she reminds herself to snap out of doomsday theories, and mostly just... quiet. but sometimes, sometimes, the closed-lid pot of constant frustration that sits on her internal backburner get heated. simmers, then roils, then steams, then bubbles over and hisses when it comes in contact with the heating element. it usually takes a lot to get to that point, but today — still fresh on a new planet and currently pinned down under appraisal and suspicion, holding one of her own internal organ and mildly offended by the term apocolypse virus — the fuse proves short. )

Oh my god, ( she seethes for a moment, eyes rolling skywards and idly hoping for some crisis to spring up in the background of the city to divert this moment. a sinkhole opening up directly beneath her feet would also be preferable.

but when it boils down to the bones of the issue, it isn't really the what of the matter clarke cares about sharing. the explanation could be swift and, if this place proved violent, it'd all spill out in due time anyways. it'd just really, really suck to weather the inevitable follow up questions, the how's and the why's; they're a long, unpleasant story with a lot of side chapters and context that needs to be included, and she just isn't up for spilling all of that just outside the apartment complex entrance. nothing demands she has to, though, and if the basest of facts means she can exit this interaction unbothered, it feels worth it. so with a hard exhale and purposeful blank slate of composure pulled over her scowl, clarke wrenches her eyes back to them. clarke relents. )

Fine. It's really not that complicated. Kidneys filter blood, my blood's black, and that somehow equals — ( she has to consult (aka glance down and really stare) at the jar, then force herself to try and describe the truly off hue; the dark shade, the obviously blackened but still vaguely along the lines of pink-red coloration you'd find in a medical textbook. and ultimately fail to come up with a descriptor better than — )

— purple.

People in masks...

[ Tim waves a hand towards the diminutive vigilante. It's hard to sell children as vigilantes, so he's being careful in word choice. No cracks about height (glass houses there) and no words like kid. If this is how Damian's choosing to present himself to the others, Tim will help him build up the image.

He's just not sure if he should go all in and ID him as Robin before he's introduced himself. Any lies will compound quickly, making it much harder to keep a unified story. ]

Generally have something to hide. The vigilantes in my world would never give out their medical records.

[ Stretching his wrist back to throw the veins in his pale wrist into relief, Tim holds his hand up for her to see. ]

I'm used to red blood and blue veins. Black would be - I don't even know what, but I'm hoping it's not contagious.

( watching tim struggle through trying to explain damian's situation without revealing who he is or what he knows is fun. damian would let him keep at it, watch him squirm a little just because he can, but he's watched drake struggle enough already. after all, he's got a bag full of the remnants of his spleen that he's admitted has been spliced through by a scimitar. that's already going to be a fun time trying to explain, if the girl decides to push. and given drake is pushing, it'd be well within her right to. )

Robin. ( a name, one drake already knew even if he was pretending elsewise. and to pull attention off of drake, given he's feeling a little generous, ) And my medical records are confidental. There were no Elder Gods involved, nor magic, but highly advanced science in a process that had been developed specifically for me. No one else. And I will not be answering further inquiries.

( attention back to the vein sharing going on here - )

The kidney hasn't been exposed to air. If it's a bloodborne pathogen, I haven't been exposed. I could test it. ( i, not we, even if he has full intention of shoving boring tests drake's way to stare at. ) But she isn't giving off any indicators she's lying either.

( damian isn't superman, but he knows how to spot a liar. at least one who isn't trained (well) to hide when they're spouting nonsense. it doesn't mean he's inclined to believe her, damian can fool a lie detector just fine. it just means he has less reason to believe she may be a carrier for any unfortunate diseases. )

( it probably would have been nice if they'd all exchanged names before handling each other's insides, but them seem to be the breaks here in etraya.

damian has at least offered confirmation that it was indeed science that got him up and walking after what sounded like a debilitating injury. and under normal circumstances clarke would have been downright excited to discuss medical advances; there is a perpetual what if surrounding the idea of throwing herself back into her roots, hitting the books, and one day following in footsteps her mother had set in place for her which inevitably lead to medicine. and maybe, if one day raven reyes showed up here, clarke could offer more than sympathy for the way she still limped on those braces. but robin has preemptively shut that down, and that's fine because she's too busy defensively bristling, hands too full to bust out a notepad and pen.

likewise, tim has offered out his wrist but she doesn't so much as glance downward. )

I am very familiar with what normal veins look like, mine started off that way too. ( ...girl that does not really sell the this isn't an infectious disease narrative, follow up quickly — )

Look, it isn't any sort of pathogen. It's not contagious. I did this to myself, my world's version of highly advanced science. ( ...that sure is one way to put it clarke, okay. )

I have no reason to lie to either of you. And if all of that isn't enough and you still feel the need to test something, at least ask nicely.

[ He gives Robin a confused little oh of a look, something that doesn't tie him down to any one particular story regarding whether Tim Drake has heard of Robin before, and moves them back to a safer topic than vigilantes and experimental science (although boy does he want to stay on that one). The air's getting testy. ]

I'm sorry. I have a big reason to be worried about getting sick. No spleen, remember? I don't want to end up back in the "hospital" again with robo-doctors. So this is an open-ended question that you don't have to answer, but if you want to help me feel a little less freaked out than I have been the past few days, I'd appreciate it. Doesn't have to be now.

[ Doesn't have to be with an audience. Tim can fill Damian in later. ]

In the meantime, how do we know this is done? If we solved the reverse treasure hunt?

We don't.

( as far as damian can tell, at least. there's no green light or soft chime that goes off when things are handed over, because it can never be that easy, can it?

he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tucks his spine-box under an arm, and - turns around on his heels. mission complete, or at least as complete as it's going to be. )

( robin perfectly puts into words exactly what's ricocheting around clarke's skull in regards to displaced organs and all the other unpleasant little secrets floating around town. they don't know if it's over or not, and more pressingly they have no idea what's coming next if this serves as the introductory mission. he subsequently turns to leave, and while she would still like to know about the technology behind his replacement spine, clarke makes no move to waylay him.

that leaves her in the company of tim drake and his spleen bag. he'd conversationally retreated away from the topic of blood draws, and thus it only feels right to force the tension out of her shoulders in the same move she hikes her kidney jar more securely into her arms. )

He's right, but we can at least hope. Dunno about you, but I really don't want to do this again.

( and she half turns to leave the apartment walk-up as well, but... admittedly, he'd struck a bit of a nerve, made a logical argument for his concern. and there's plenty to worry about in this new place, but that shouldn't be one of them. so with a tight inhale, clarke pivots back around. and the very least she can offer is a low spoken, pressing insistence that: )

I'm not going to get you sick, okay? Maybe we can talk about this later, but right now I need to go put this — ( slight shake of the kidney jar, the discolored organ bobbing slightly in preservatives ) — somewhere that I won't ever have to look at it again.

We can't do this again. I've only got one spleen to find.

[ He's not going to go after Damian. That way lies headache. But he does need to actually get to know people, find out what they're good at and what they might know. Someone has to know something about this place. They just need to find one thread that will help unravel what's going on. ]

I was going to go outside the main part of "town" -

[ The bag swings in a sloshy sort of way as he does double air quotes. ]

And burn mine. If yours is in formaldehyde, it would make sure there was nothing left. It's a - it's really flammable.

[ Class 3 accelerant, actually. ]

( assuming the game's concluded, burning the "evidence" doesn't sound like an awful idea...

but at the same time, clarke's grip on the jar tightens to the point her knuckles blanch and the glass edges dig into her stomach. even if this hadn't been the way she'd wanted to get it back, this was still a part of her — one lost, and thought long past the opportunity to ever get back. somewhere i won't ever have to look at it again was most likely going to be the back of the closet in her etraya issued apartment, but she thinks she gets what he's getting at. )

...I mean, if you need an accelerant, I'll share. But I wasn't going to —

( yeah, there's no good way to finish that sentence, none that would adequately describe the attachment to this dead part of herself. so clarke settles for just shrugging tightly and shaking her head lightly. )

[ If she doesn't intend to dispose of her kidney, Tim is hardly going to coerce her into sharing a joint organ pyre. That's some first class creepy territory.

(He's still going to burn his. Far too much unwilling cloning and unauthorized use of genetic materials for him to leave a sample that weighs fully in ounces lying around.)

Tim takes a few steps back, shaking his head. ]

Don't worry about it. Former Boy Scout. I know how to start a fire and put one out.

[ Former Boy Scout is a longstanding lie; you can use scouting to cover a wealth of knowledge. ]

Anyway. If you ever want to hang out, uh, without the ... samples, I'm Tim. I'm in 4-B.

( as they may both later learn, apparently destroying the evidence isn't enough to prevent evil clones running rampant through the city but — that's for another day. right now clarke's just mentally pinging that this is the second time in two days that some early earth tribe called the boy scouts have been brought up. thus far her impression is one of respect for their preparedness (questionable in this circumstance maybe, but still) and tools; count down the days until she picks up a swiss army knife from the kwik trip.

for as pushy as tim had been a few minutes ago, he doesn't push this particular subject. even steps back a few feet and offers his name, and she exhales after a beat. )

Maybe once things settle down around here. I'm Clarke, ( comes the returned introduction, sans even the slightest hint of where she can be found outside this moment, come on civilian... ) And you... really shouldn't tell people where you live right off the bat.

Nice to meet you, Clarke.

[ The warning takes him by surprise, considering that they've all had a Moment here. Tim can't say that he's confident that no one's going to come after him in the apartment building. The apartment building, much like the hotel, is Aurora ground-zero. It was one of the only buildings that was finished when they first got here, and it's where all the kidnappies were directed to stay.

He's convinced it's monitored and that anyone intending to start picking off the group would be smart enough to do it somewhere less heavily trafficked.

(Plus. He'd put up a pretty good fight if they tried.) ]

It's okay. I've got a system - I pull furniture in front of the door when I'm inside. But don't worry. That's not all I do. I'm keeping some secrets.

[ Tim grins at her. ]

Besides... gotta trust someone at some point.

Edited 2024-04-30 01:37 (UTC)

( there's nothing inherently wrong with a good barricade, or at least there hadn't been back on her earth. but times change, the ground proves to have a tendency to slip out from beneath one's feet, minds are forced to expand at a rapid rate to accept the existence of things like vampires and superhumans and robots with genuine consciousness and the undead and magic and everything else that was contained in stories long forgotten even before she was born. it's exhausting but there's no other choice but to let knowledge roll over you like waves on a beach, and open your arms to the undertow because how else could one prepare against them?

clarke really wants to bring up the fact a sofa and end-table or two pressed up against the apartment door wouldn't stop someone with supernatural strength if they really wanted to get in, but she also doesn't want to fear monger. tim seems content enough with his own measures to smile at her after explaining, and it's arguably just her paranoia speaking, nothing bad has happened in etraya. yet.

she doesn't smile a lot in general, to the point where the best social mirror she can offer him back for that grin is a grim contortion of her face; eyebrows together, well-worn doubt pressed into the lines that form between them, and a wobble of the mouth — lips quirking down, up, down again, then pressing together so hard they blanche. and she shrugs.

Sure, at some point, ( comes her eventual echoing, though the undercurrent of when earned comes through loud and clear. and that hasn't happened within this conversation, it's been an all around weird first meeting even if some of the tension has lapsed. actually, why is he so sudden more relaxed without the pint size caped crusader here? that's weird, but not enough to comment on.

not when they're both still holding their organs. clarke very obviously diverts her eyes to the door of the apartment building, projecting her intention to extricate herself a split second before taking a step in that direction. but she isn't horrifically rude, she still says — )

Bye, Tim. Make sure you put out your fire.

[ He doesn't see it as rude at all, just her picking up on the signal he'd sent with if you ever want to hang out. If, meaning not now, because they both have body parts to take care of and... yeah, if it's not a group bonfire, it's time to escape this nightmare. ]

Boy Scouts, remember? I've got this. See you around.

[ Tim gives her a wave, taking a couple of backwards steps to not immediately turn his back, before walking off in the opposite direction of the apartments. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MISSION 001

sneaks this in outta tag order

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