thisavrou_log | January Intro Log

January Intro Log

Who: New arrivals and old residents
When: January 5 and beyond
Where: Avagi
What: Hello, nice to meet you
Warnings: Label where applicable.

Arrival

A shiver of light, a sense of falling, and Avagi's portals have claimed another traveller. For those first stepping out of the Ingress Memorial, Avagi may be rather disorienting, but some areas are quite lively, and there are plenty of places to explore. As newcomers make their way into their new home, they'll encounter new acquaintances and a few pitfalls.

Last month's time distortions have settled... for the most part. The strange flickering light atop the Ingress Memorial's central fragment lingers, though, pulsing and shifting in strange, hypnotic patterns. Left to their own devices, a character may stand in place for over a day, entirely unaware of their surroundings or the passage of time. They can be snapped out of the daze... with effort. And in most cases, touch.
Over the last few months, Avagi's sudden population has done a good job breaking in old living spaces. Unfortunately, after a century of disrepair, some of those systems have been quietly breaking down. Today? It's the plumbing. The Bar, Bartering Block, and several of the Labs are rapidly imitating a swamp. The Gym has acquired a new pool, and Sanitation is mostly underwater. Residents of the Chemistry and 🙀 housing sectors may need to start putting up sandbags—or bailing their rooms dry.

Whether to lend a hand or loot their neighbors, someone's going to need to (dive) get to the bottom of all this. The water spillage is mostly clean, but if conditions persist, that won't last long.
While a few (aquatic) species of the local mini-dinos are enjoying the new swimming space just fine, their more feathery compatriots have rapidly gone from bedraggled to soaked... and heading towards hypothermic. The recent spate of exterminations has them warier than usual of humanoid life, but less hostile (or more oblivious) station-dwellers may find a small flock trying to get dry in front of their space heaters—or any sources of potential warmth.

[Welcome to Thisavrou! If you haven't already, we encourage you to check out the OOC intro and calendar for January. Oldbies, please also make sure you've glanced through the activity check. A mod update will be going up soon with information on what's coming up, but if there are any questions in the interim, feel free to use the activity check comment.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ha ha.]

[It's true. They did die before they got the chance to learn much of anything! Including, apparently, how to swim, and how to not be a complete and utter burden in situations such as this!]

[They really are not much of an asset to anybody like this, are they?]

I appear to be the outlier in this regard.

You're not an outlier, Chara. You just haven't had a chance.

[He's adamant there. At least in this whole swimming thing.]

You're doing fine.

[You can do this. You can do this.]

[He shifts around a bend in the hallway, barking the shins of his armor on something hidden in the murk. One hand snaps out, gripping the wall for a moment.]

When this is over... Maybe we should start a swim class.

Certainly. I daresay we have more than enough water for a pool at any rate!

[Too loud. Too loud and too fierce. They need to calm down and stop - stop being this. He's trying his best to help them, despite all odds, and all they can do is pile on the sardonicism and verbal abuse!]

Don't... [Don't fall. Please don't fall.] Are you hurt?

There's a little too much for practice.

[It's okay, Chara. It's fine. Do what you have to, and all Shiro will do is keep dragging through the water. Let him worry about getting to the next location. Worry about navigating.]

[They can cope how they need.]

Think I brutally wounded my pride... [So yes, he's fine.]

[Good.]

[That means they won't have to kill something when this is over. Though, granted, killing something might be an excellent way to relieve stress. They'd know.]

...have there been any reports of any dangers in the water, by chance?

[Some weird part of him would consider it a mark of progress that Chara would be willing to do a murder on something that attacked him. But that's something to think about later. Like much later.]

Not yet. Just holes in the floor. Or objects you can't see.

Maybe the tiny dinosaurs. But they're not too interested in biting.

I see we've yet to get rid of them in earnest.

[This is...fine. Fine. They're talking. Having a conversation like it's a normal day, and like Shiro is not awkwardly piggybacking them through flooded living quarters. It would be the same sort of conversation they would have under ordinary circumstances, except they're fair certain their breathing would be steadier and their knuckles would not be gleaming bone-white with their grip on Shiro's jetpack.]

"Yet"?

They're not that bad.

[He's sort of weirdly fond of them. Because dinosaurs.]

[His steps have slowed a bit, for now. Lowering his hands into the water to feel for any obvious obstructions. Tripping now would be awful. Getting wet wouldn't bother him so much... but it would probably mean dislodging Chara. And starting this whole process all over again.]

Call me pessimistic, but so far, nothing here ever stays benign very long. [A few awkward steps before he adds:] Almost to the stairs up.

Okay.

[It's...okay.]

I prefer to think of it as "realism." Preparedness never did one wrong, did it?

[Statistically, it probably has, but they're not getting into semantics. For once. For once they are not going to be picky because they are almost to the stairs and thus out of the water and thus out of this entire awful uncomfortable situation.]

That's a good point. Remind me to tell my teammates that, the next time they call me out on it.

[A bit of wry humor for them. A glance back at them. To check. Before he picks up the pace. Pushing onward. It's like moving in slow motion. No matter how fast you try to move, if you're not swimming, you may as well be inching along.]

[But they can do this.]

Hang on, okay? You're almost there.

Yes.

[That didn't even make sense. Yes. He's trying his best, and they're just...saying stupid things. Just keep moving, just keep moving, except they're not the one moving at all. They're not doing anything of use except clinging on his back like a horrible limpet.]

[They need to be useful. They latch onto one subject they know is pertinent because it will always be pertinent where he is concerned.]

Have you slept?

Not as much as I should.

[He has, though. But then the new crisis started. The new crisis started and neither North nor Maine nor Lucio were answering. So... he threw himself into the new crisis. As hard as he could.]

[If this were any other time, he might have laughed at the question. If only because of how painfully predictable he is.]

Stairs -- ten feet. Okay?

Okay.

[Easy. Easy. Ten feet. They’re almost out. It’s almost over. Just hold on for a little bit longer.]

[(The urge to let go and sink like a stone still scrabbles ar them, just to feel the water fill their lungs and get that fleeting moment of relief of relief of relief of)]

...you ought to sleep. When this is done.

I'll try my best.

[Just like he's going to try his best to push himself onward. Faster. Harder. The wet metal underfoot is slick, here. He has to focus more. If he falls now, so close to the goal...]

[Five feet. Four.]

You could stay with us. If you need to. Or even... borrow a blanket.

[Three. Two. The water starts to lower, from waist to hip. Hip to knee. Stairs underfoot.]

[He's focused on talking to them. Keeping up a line of speech for their sake. His foot misses the next step. Slides off the edge. They're close enough now that, if someone were so inclined, they could jump to dry stairs as he grabs for a hand hold or rail or something and --]

[Honestly, faceplanting at the foot of the stairs would be hilarious if it weren't for the water and everything.]

"Us"?

[They're assuming him and...however many of his original "team" are still with him, at this point. It's difficult to say. They've not been keeping track.]

[Something goes wrong. They lose track of what and why and when, but become rapidly aware of the way that things pitch forward and there's the sound of someone slipping and then they're slipping forward, and the grip they have on the contours of his jetpack is too slick with water to keep them from half skidding, half sliding from his back to tumble over onto the stairs.]

Shiro.

[Immediately, they're bracing to their knees, reaching to grasp the pauldron-like curve of his armor's shoulder.]

[Is he all right.]

["Us" as in what remains of his team. What remains of the family they'd had, for those few months, in the house, approaching something like normal. Something ripped away from them all.]

[But now isn't the time to talk about it. His face hurts. There are stars whirling in his vision. His eyes sting and burn under water. Before he thinks about it, he's inhaling -- choking.]

[When they grab for his shoulder, it's jarring enough to pull his attention up. Up toward where they are. Out of the water, gasping, coughing -- chin smeared with red.]

H... hey... stairs.

[He's fine.]

[He's hurt.]

[He based his head on something, or ran into something, and now he's bleeding. Chara hisses once between their teeth, something close to a sigh of exasperation or frustration or regret, and the sight of it it is enough to pull every instinct forward, forward, so that they're hooking one arm beneath his to try and serve as some form of support.]

Get up. How bad is it?

[They're... concerned. They're concerned. Voluntarily grasping at him. Touching him. Trying to pull him upright. It's... shocking, really. Enough to where he wonders if somehow he fell and the resulting impact was more traumatic than expected.]

[His toes move. His fingers move. And when he brings the free hand up to touch his face, it's not until he gets to his jaw that anything hurts.]

Not bad. Just the face.

[He's not going to call attention to their effort. As much as he does appreciate it. He'll just heave himself out of the water properly. Onto the stairs.] Cut it.

[It's simply that it's different - different, when they are the one in control, when they are the one who can time it, when it is their choice and they may relent at any time. It's not bad, he says - but the water has come from the plumbing, and Eddie's obsession with germs and infections may be unwarranted most times, but in this case, they can visualize perfectly what sort of choice things he might have to say about exposing an open wound to infection by filthy water.]

One moment.

[They still have their PacDisc, thankfully, and within it - a fully stocked first aid kit.]

[They are not, uh, the best? when it comes to treating injuries? But they have band-aids, and band-aids they know how to use. That will surely stave off all incipient infections. Yes.]

[Whatever the reason for it, he'll take it. He'll take Chara being more active, being more in control of themselves. That's a good sign, isn't it? At least, it tends to be in himself.]

[He doesn't go anywhere. But he does shift enough to sit on the stairs, as opposed to just lying there like a lump while they dig out their first aid kit. Their effort even gets a sincere smile out of one side of his face.]

What... no robot bandaids? [His tone is light, amused. Underneath the words is real gratitude, too.]

If you have an issue with the design, take it up the chain.

[Take it up the chain? What chain? They found the first aid kit without any indication that it belonged to anyone in particular and took it. The band-aids look absolutely ordinary. They'll do, surely. They extricate a disinfectant wipe and beckon for him to lift his chin so they can get a clearer look at the cut.]

[They may not necessarily know what they're doing, but they're very good at acting it.]

You don't want an open wound while slogging through dirty water, as I'm certain you're going to be heading right back into that mess once you're done here.

[That earns a choking laugh. More water than actual amusement.]

That... sounds like an insult when you say it.

[But he laughed, all the same. Laughed and lifted his face. Just as asked. Gritting his teeth instead of actually wincing at the sting. He's used to it. The disinfectant. Used to cleaning up scrapes the old fashioned way.]

[The corner of his mouth still flicks in a faint smile.]

You're right. I am. Thank you, Chara.

[Unbelievably, their mind fails to supply them with an appropriately bladed retort to that. They can do nothing but purse their lips and peel away the paper backing for the adhesive and press it over the cut when they locate its source and then - retreat, just as swiftly.]

I hardly see why that would merit gratitude. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

It was simply a question of not trusting that you would prior to playing rescue.

Maybe I am. You still did it.

[So therefore, they get the thanks. They get the gratitude. He does shut up, however, as they apply the bandage. Though his smile doesn't fade. Not even a little.]

[When they finish, he finally sobers up, looking at them for a long moment before speaking up again.]

And... thank you for trusting me to get you here.

[There are a million things they ought to say to that. It isn't trust. It was necessity. It was lack of choice. It was what was necessary.]

[They bite their tongue hard enough for it to hurt, and pack the contents of the first aid kit away to close it with a delicate snap.]

I suppose it's my fault, for continuing to require you to haul me clear of peril.

January Intro Log

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