hugtopia_logs | ♥ November Intro Mingle Log

♥ November Intro Mingle Log

a house lit by sunset colours, with orange-leafed trees around it and a tiny pumpkin by the wall

November Intro Mingle Log
Welcome to Hugtopia, and to the city of Havenwell. This mingle is meant for new arrivals to get settled and meet the other inhabitants. New characters should be the only top-levels but everyone is free to tag around and make new friends. Who knows, you may find that Perfect Hug in here. You can use the prompts here, or create a wildcard of your own.

ICly, this takes place from the 2nd to around the 10th, with a proper event coming soon after applications are processed. The prompts below are optional, but are a way to get you started if you wish. To help you create your own prompts, please take a look through our Settings and FAQ. Click on each prompt's title to see the text.

If you have any questions, feel free to direct them to the FAQ or to the Mod Question thread below.

❥ PROMPT I: Awakening

When you awaken, you're in the last outfit you remember wearing, (up to) three of your belongings laid nearby or your animal friend curled up by you, waking as you do. A stone slab is not the most comfortable place to sleep, but once you're awake, a humanoid-looking robot comes into the room and explains that you're in Havenwell, then leads you out of the room and into the main portion of the temple where a welcoming committee of similarly humanoid-looking robots hand over a clear smartphone-sized tablet, some starting funds, and explain their dilemma. Then they release you into Havenwell to pick your new home from free housing in the city and give you the chance to settle. It might be a bit disorienting, but thankfully there seem to be a lot of robots and even some non-robots around. Maybe ask them for help? Strike up a friendly conversation, get to know your neighbours! It seems as if you may be here for the long haul.

❥ PROMPT II: Buddy System

two fingers together with smiling faces drawn on

With all the changes and the fear of a secondary attack lingering, the natives are a lot more protective of their newest arrivals. When new characters begin to appear at the temples, they receive the welcome speech, get their communicators and the simple map of the city, and a warning to stay away from the walls. Then they get taken to the front of the temple by a helpful robotic priest. Rather than turn the newcomers loose right away, they pull someone seemingly at random off the street and push the two people together with a cheerful, "It's dangerous to go alone, so please show our newest resident around. Please be buddies!" They wait until they're certain the pair is going to be moving off together before going back inside.

They try to place a new arrival with one of those who previously arrived, but who can keep track of all that, right? Characters may find themselves thrown together with an actual veteran or with another new arrival who only came here a day or even just an hour before them! Good luck helping each other out, offworlders, and don't lose your buddy!

❥ PROMPT III: Virtual Research

a virtual first-person view of hands reeling in a fishing rod

After the attack, every part of the city is on repair duty and the means the Entertainment District as well. As new arrivals wander the city, they might be called into one of the numerous Virtual Reality cafes. These cafes vary in layout, but most have areas for the natives to plug directly into the machines and other areas which have older looking virtual reality helmets that allow flesh bodied people experience the games. For those who need assistance with their sensory inputs, basic options like audio descriptions of visual scenes, enhanced audio and descriptive speech, closed captions, and crude mobility chairs are available. A handful of cafes have other options like direct visual or audio cortex stimulation to simulate vision or hearing, or suspension tanks to allow simulated movement, but these are currently unavailable due to damage.

All of these facilities are, unfortunately, under repair. The direct plug-in systems are easier for the robot natives to fix because they can do the most important part of it - testing - by themselves. But for the helmets and other interface systems, they need your help. Naturally, they'll pay you for the work, but they need the offworlders to play the available games and record any areas where they find glitches. Playing with a partner increases your chances of finding and fixing any issues, so feel free to log in for free for once and test any of the following games:

Big Bass Fishing

A (un)Familiar Experience

Robot Crossing

Pick and harvest as many Aellyn vegetables and fruits as you can before the timer runs out! The more you pick, the better your score. Work together with your partner to clear the field in any way you can. Strangely, once you finish clearing a tree or a field row of their bounty, they seem to magically refill when you turn your back. Strangely, when the timer runs out? It flashes 00:00 and the game...doesn't? Stop? In fact, the fruits and vegetables just keep multiplying and multiplying and if you don't hurry up you might just get buried in them all!
With a partner, use the giant slingshot to launch comically large fruits into a garden patch of other colored fruits. Match a line of 3 or more similarly shaped fruits to clear it from the field. The more fruits you can clear, the higher your score - aka welcome to Fruit Crush. Stack lines of 6 or more to get shining clear diamond fruits that clear the entire row and snag yourself some bonus points. Or they should, but whenever you clear away a matching set, the fruits explode, sending fruit bits and juice everywhere - most notably on you and your partner. Still, the game is going on and it looks like it won't stop until you finish, so good thing it's all a computer game, right? Sure feels real though - reeeeeeally sticky.
You and your partner(s) are given a magical golden pumpkin and it's your job to grow it into the largest pumpkin possible. Why? There's a county fair of course and the largest pumpkin wins! But how do you grow this pumpkin? Well, for whatever reason? This pumpkin is already the size of a grizzly bear and it just won't stop growing! You and your partner better find a way to stop it from growing out of control or you might get (virtually) crushed! You could do a song and dance routine together to touch the pumpkin's soul to teach it moderation or calm its insane vegetable puberty. You could hold hands and share stories and entertain the pumpkin until it feels satisfied that it's grown enough. You could just hack and slash at it in an attempt to reduce its unwieldy bulk. The possibilities are endless and so is the pumpkin's growth, so you better hurry!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The self-conscious interjection draws his gaze toward her, only for it to snap back to the bowl when she moves on in the next beat. The concoction is sticky under his palm, and he hasn't the faintest idea what the proper technique for kneading the dough is. ]

How is it done?

[ Her palms slide down his wrists to cup his hands, soon beginning to guide him through the motions. The dough is sticky and tough, clinging to both of their fingers. With a bit of extra flour to aide their motions, it will soon become easier for the both of them as they knead. ]

Mm, just like this...

[ For this part she’ll guide him, slowly and rhythmically to the point that it seems almost mathematical. Her motions are patient, correcting his when his hands work too much, but easing when he gets it just right. He’s a quick learner, and when it seems like he’s got it, she’ll allow him to take the lead. ]

As silly as it sounds... the dough will “know” if your strength is too much or little. You cannot be too rough with it.

[ She glances at his profile as they work, hands and fingers brushing alongside his. If what that woman had mentioned about Noctis is true, then this man is most certainly royal as well. Of course he’s never made something like this before. She wonders: does he see this as beneath him, or is he curious of this new experience? ]

[ The answer is simple: she asked for help in an exercise that might nourish the gods, and so he will give it.

If he can't be rough, the solution is to start off gently. This leaves Pyra to do most of the initial labor while he gradually gains in strength, the press of the heels of his hands doing more work on their own until she scales him back for applying too much pressure. With her patient guidance, he's soon able to knead the dough.

Settling into a proper rhythm without overusing his strength is simple enough, contrasting against the complex workings of the dough's transformation. He wonders as to the efficiency of this with her hands over his, but time is limited yet abundant at once here.

It's a purely physical exercise, and one that entails little thought. Somnus is quiet the whole while—when it's time to stop, Pyra will stop. ]

[ With this being all synthetic dough and synthetic yeast and synthetic— well, everything, the process is just slightly different, if a little quicker. The basis for the kneading is to mechanically break down the fibers, while the yeast generates a chemical reaction within. With how quickly the process works beneath their combined motions, it’s likely that the dough will rise faster than expected, too.

At last she lets him take the lead, moving her hands to the edge of the bowl to patiently watch him work.

...When he first returned, he seemed so lost in a way, his expression numb and hollow. At least with giving him this task and having him focus upon an activity he’s never done before... she’s hoping that it’s taken his mind off whatever had transpired today. Even if this is only a small, short respite from his thoughts, it is something.

When the dough appears to be just the right consistency, she gently touches one of his hands. ] Good... I don’t think anyone could have done this better. [ Pride shines in her eyes for him; it seems she expects high results of this particular batch of bread. His meticulousness clearly shows in his work. ]

Edited 2019-11-15 05:28 (UTC)

[ His hands still when she lays hers over the one, and he visually assesses the dough before catching the twinkle in her eyes with a glance thrown her way. If she must praise anyone, he thinks, it should be herself as his teacher. With his part over, he retracts his hands from the bowl to allow her free reign.

As lightly matted as they are with flour, he keeps his hands on the counter top. Now that the dough has taken on a more familiar shape, he can begin to guess at the steps to follow. ]

What comes next?

We wait for it to rise a little more... [ Which. It's doing, because synthetic yeast! ] before putting it into the oven to bake.

And then...

And then... [ Her hands, sticky with flour and dough, lift to her chest. They rest over her apron. ]

We might both say that we've created something.

[ Created something, not destroyed. Created something to share, to give to others. Created something... together. ]

[ Somnus, who's without an apron of his own, keeps his hands in place. He's probably gotten faint streaks of flour on his robes, though this doesn't concern him in the slightest.

Created, not destroyed. For the two of them—one whose purpose is to cleave with the might of a god, and the other whose legacy was built on blood spilled by his hands—it's something of an accomplishment. How piteous, that they should view something that mortals do on a regular basis like this. (The same, too, can be said for the forging of bonds.)

In the end, it is just bread, albeit bread that will be offered to the gods. He also sees that she's making full use of the coveted oven. It should be soon, given how quickly the dough is rising. ]

Is it time?

[ Privately, she is a little disappointed in herself that she did not get more of a reaction out of him, not even a smile. What will it take, she wonders? ] Mm.

[ Which-- after centering the dough onto a pan, she places the pan into the oven. ]

Which god... or person, will you offer your bread?

[ Person. Somnus pauses. When was a person ever a part of the plan?

The oven will take time. He turns his gaze back to the mess of flour on the counter. If she's done for the night, she won't be needing any of the ingredients or supplies here anymore.

Since there were originally three loaves, this will make a fourth, which is just enough for each god. ]

I will offer it to the counterpart of your chosen god.

[ ...Her chosen god? ] Rawna is my own.

[ Now that she thinks of it, she doesn't know his either. ] And yours?

Rawna.

[ "Rawna granted me strength of heart and Ainea gave me love to guide it."

Then the counterpart is the god to whom his brother belongs. ]

Ainea, then.

[ She's been to all of the temples, and it's been a trip. To hear that they share the same god, however-- what a happy coincidence, even if she still doesn't quite feel as if she's doing right by Rawna. She should, she ought to try to emulate his virtues more, because she was never meant to have these human emotions in the first place.

But Ainea.... compassion and empathy. ]

I'm sure she would find your bread absolutely delicious. I'm envious that I won't get to try a piece before!

[ He is worried about neither the bread nor its taste. It's also not his. She was involved in its creation, too.

Compassion and empathy were never his strengths, but the right to deliver an offering to their chosen god should go to Pyra. That leaves him to go to the god whose values are the opposite. ]

The other loaves have been tasted. Why not this one?

...Ah, you have a point. [ A small nod. ]

This way-- I'll be able to judge without bias. [ KINDA? Okay, you know, she knows that she has helped make it. But she wouldn't want him to be smote if the offering does not please Ainea. ] And I'll be able to try something that you made.

[ Win-win! She's smiling at him, like she's expecting something more from him. ]

[ A god of compassion and empathy, smiting valuable tools over bread. Who ever heard of that?

Pyra is more excited about this than any person ought to be, but it is precisely because she is not an ordinary person that she would delight in this opportunity. Somnus harbors no such sentimentality, even though she's clearly trying to push him in a certain direction. He stares at her face—the persistent smile, then the streak of flour on her cheek—before he looks toward the oven. ]

You are free to judge, then.

[ Good, she has his approval to judge! So she will!

And then he looks away. A moment passes, then another. There is no smile from him, nothing at all. She washes her hands in the meantime, turning from him and wondering if... she should say something as they wait for the bread to bake. She'll move aside from the sink, if he wishes to do the same.

Only when some time has passed does she dares speak. ]

Something happened today, didn't it.

[ Nothing, yet again, that concerns her or the world. When she steps away from the sink, a moment of inactivity passes before he fills the vacancy to run the water over his hands.

He's washed his hands of more than flour and dough today. With the distraction she's provided in these last precious minutes, he finds that he's already begun to harden himself to the day's events. It is not something that merits acknowledgment. ]

For the future of this world, no day must be spent idly.

[ She shakes her head; no, that's not what she's talking about. ]

Will you not share?

[ Architect, she cannot even begin to attempt to describe what she perceives of him with words. His expressions are far too subtle, too muted, like they've been beaten down over and over again. Once there might have been a mask; now, there is but a flat plate of metal. ]

[ Declining to answer straightaway, Somnus slides one hand over the other to push the excess water off before closing the faucet. Another moment passes in silence. Then he reaches for the nearest dish cloth that's yet to have seen use, dampens it at the sink, and approaches Pyra to press it lightly against her cheek.

His eyes are distant; his lips, closed. He turns his wrist inward, wiping the flour off of her face with the moist cloth. No, he will not share. She has her secrets, and so does he. ]

[ She recalls their first night in this world, the words exchanged, her hand in his: why does he blame himself? "That does not concern you." Is he prepared? "No."

He is not prepared to make himself vulnerable, to do what is necessary to be closer to others, thus making touch easier to tolerate, to permit, to endure. He keeps himself an arm's length away, yet...

Her eyes remain on him as he presses the towel to her cheek; she feels the coolness of the water, a line of it dripping down the angle of her jaw, down her neck. The cloth remains a barrier between his palm and her skin. This is the wall he has woven for himself: no matter what touch he brings, it will never have that true closeness that he-- seems to deny himself. A barrier remains. It keeps him safe. It keeps him numb.... but how numb?

Her hand lifts to his cheek. No cloth separates her fingertips from his skin. There, there is warmth. There, there is comfort and acceptance, or so she hopes that is what it may provide him. ]

Do you feel this, Somnus?

[ He draws the dish cloth away just as her hand comes up to lay on his cheek. A gesture most tender, she asks if he feels it—a closeness, no doubt, that he denies her and everyone else. There is no scorn in the contact. As always, there is instead compassion that does not need to be.

Reaching up, he takes her hand in his. He brings their hands down, stepping toward her side to adjust the grip into a proper hand-hold. His other hand sets the dish cloth down on the counter, and this is where his head is turned when he answers. ]

On this, you and I are different.

[ There's no argument in his tone. They are different, and this is to be expected. He accepts it. He only wishes that she would, too. ]

[ While she make take souls into herself, she is no reaper that the humans have conjured up within their mythology. That is not her role. From a touch upon his cheek to a hand-hold, she does not move-- save, for a more secure grip onto his hand.

But on this? She must make a point, even though he turns away; it's as if he's denying he has feelings at all. She continues: ]

Tell me what you feel.

[ Two hands on his, to emphasize that she means physical feeling for this question. ]

[ Put on the spot so, Somnus freezes. The night's arguments have left him weary, but she will not allow him to walk away as his brother had. She would reel him in instead, when he wants only to put it all behind him.

There is contact, however, and that means none of this is a complete misuse of time. Lax though his grasp may be, he keeps his hand between hers. ]

Your hands and mine, joined at our palms. That is what I feel.

[ Good, a start. He may be looking away, but he'll hear the insistence in her voice softening. ]

Tell me how it feels.

[ Warm? Cold? Soft? Numb? ]

♥ November Intro Mingle Log

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