WEEK 0 MINGLE

[probe]

POPULATION: 37

Good morning, starshines. It is another beautiful day here on the base and it’s the start of a new week!

After the events of the day before and the meet and greet provided by four new Avatars, you may find yourself wondering how you can get in touch with them again. Fear not. One look at your handy dandy cell phone will reveal eight new contacts added to your directory. Feel free to shoot them a message. You may be surprised.

But before you get too far, perhaps it’s worth checking out the base once more. Those locked rooms from the days before have been unlocked, free for exploration. In addition, should occupants visit the central elevator they will find the elevator in working order (and flame-free) and that a new floor has opened. Take a look, familiarize yourself, and make yourself comfortable. Life on the base is a happy place.

And speaking of happiness…it’s funny. For the rest of the week, all who reside on the base will be inflicted with little feelings of hope and happiness, a belief that they can manifest almost anything. This week, all will discover that any mundane thing they hope for will be at their disposal...though do be careful. Those small wishes may come to fruition in ways you don't expect. For example, wishing for a year's supply of sushi may net you one astronomically large sushi roll. An eyeshadow palette may provide you with samples of actual colored eyelids. And a punching bag could be mistaken for a bag full of confetti instead.

May all your hopes and dreams come true, everyone.

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Comments

[probe]

I'm not so terrible at uh, at picking up whatever you're putting down.

[they're just watching despair for now, waiting for them to pick an instrument.]

[probe]

Then perhaps we will put that to the test.

[they eventually settle on a double bass, testing a few notes to check its tuning before they nod, seemingly satisfied.]

[probe]

[they kick their feet back and forth, sitting on the bench.

and then they reach over and grab a violin off the ground. with a vaguely grouchy sound, they pull a bow out of their sleeve, because someone stole the usual one.

they glance at despair, expectantly.]

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[they huff out a faintly amused noise at wrath being inconvenienced, but when wrath waits expectantly for them, they only need a few moments to consider before they begin.

unsurprisingly, it's something melancholic, though not so slow in pace that it becomes something like a dirge-- melodic and quiet, at least to start.]

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[they listen for a moment, hood tilted back. their feet stop kicking as they do. and then, with a carefulness that is maybe not fitting for someone called wrath, they join in, matching the tone, the melody.

what's not surprising is the eventual angry undertone it carries. melancholy, but with an edge of something dangerous.]

[probe]

[and when they pick up on that, they shift their own playing-- a little more volume, a slightly more intent pace, a desperation to match the edge of danger. they don't look at wrath at all; they need only listen.]

[probe]

[it's second nature to follow through. a build up of desperation and fury and - longing? longing.

they match in volume, tense, until the breaking point. the music hits a crescendo, and then - pauses, as it slips right back down into a sort of exhaustion, quiet.]

[probe]

[they keep up, through that segment-- they allow wrath to take the lead, providing their own notes as an undercurrent, harmonizing. when it slips back into something more quiet, they continue following along....

though eventually they say, mildly:]

You are a bit sharp.

[wrath is not.]

[probe]

[they're so engrossed in what they're playing that despair's comment actually makes them startle - they jump, with a squawk of their violin, and then:]

I am not. You're flat.

[probe]

Am I? As I recall, only one of us thought to check their tuning.

[they just carry on playing, casually.]

[probe]

[... their feet flicker with flames, angrily, and then

wrath just throws their bow at despair.]

[probe]

[despair stops playing to catch it, but they don't give it back, just lifting their head to look over to them.]

Temperamental today, are we.

[probe]

[just, fire. smoke coming from under their hood.]

Shut up. Give it back.

[probe]

[they pause for a few moments, almost evaluating, watching that smoke... and then they lightly toss the bow back to wrath.]