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WEEK 2 MINGLE
POPULATION: 32
Good morning, starshines. It is another beautiful day here on the base, and it’s the start of a new week!
Good thing, too. After the deaths of Grell Sutcliff, Kaz Kaan, and HK-47, the tension around the base may be a bit higher than it was before. Should anyone try to contact the deceased or review their profiles, they will find that they have been deleted from everyone's phones.
Then again...last weekend was a bit of a mess, wasn't it? Perhaps you would prefer to leave it all behind you. Lucky for you, the elevator reveals that it may now visit the third floor. It may be worth checking out these new areas, free for exploration. If you're feeling incredibly ambitious, you can also take a more in-depth look.
While you can't contact the deceased, the Avatars are once again available via their eight symbols. Shoot them a message, have a chat with them, and see what you can learn. Perhaps you'll find it easier this week.
On the bright side, all of your skills are in working order once again. Cherish your gifts, little sinners. You would hate to lose them again wouldn't you? But even if you did, you would still have your memories of them. Memories are important, aren't they? Things meant to remind you, and things to motivate you. Your most tragic, painful and even downright embarrassing memories shape who you are as a person, and this week you'll find that others will be witness to these as well. This may occur when you're in close proximity to someone, or it may be when you brush past them. Even the slightest eye contact may set off this sharing of memories, and your deepest secrets will be harder to keep.
Hide all you'd like. You can't outrun your past.
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[She says this, but she's already looking through the rack since Harrow can take care of herself. After a moment, she stops and waves Douman over.]
Oh! Come here. I see outfits in your size, too.
[But the Douman sized example she pulls out of the rack... is this.]
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You know, you don't need to be so f... [They stop.] Fu... [And stop again.] Forking rude. I'll read them out for all of us.
[And taking the scroll, they clear their throat.]
It seems we need to participate in a fashion show and...wrestle a six-armed Amazonian woman for a belt. How fun!
[And oh, Sheila wants them over, but...]
[That...outfit...]
[They give her a disparaging look.]
Sheila, this is a fashion show. No.
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[Is that part of the effect or is she just being mean. Anyway, she's just adding bones to her outfit, pulling just so many bones out of the pockets of her toga. How are there actually way more bones in her pockets than there used to be. Where are you getting these bones from, Harrow.]
What is an Amazonian woman, pray tell?
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I am not trying to hurt their feelings!
[She holds up the clown wrestling suit higher.]
And this is just an example. But if you wanted to dress this way, you would still be more fashionable than half the people out there. After all, isn't it all about confidence? [Point taken, though. She puts it back and starts looking for another.] Even tall, strong, beautiful warrior women can't beat confidence.
[That is technically an answer to Harrow's question, and yet.]
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[Pouting! Super mean! They did nothing wrong ever!]
I suppose it is, but the colors are garish... [YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE, DOUMAN] And...mmm! The Amazons were a powerful race of lady warriors from the land of Greece as Sheila said! Their feats of strength and physicality were truly something to behold, as far as I'm aware. So to face one will not be easy, no no, not at all.
[And plucking out a Sheila-sized wrestling outfit.]
This is cute! Try this one, Sheila!
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Good luck, Sheila. We will support you in whatever way we can.
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These two need a get along shirt, my god.
She looks at Douman right in the eye while taking the wrestling outfit from them.]
If this is your way of getting back at me for the clown outfit, I'm going to make you regret it when I look cute as fuck while I knock out an Amazon.
[WHY IS THE TINY REALTOR LADY FIGHTING THE AMAZON. DOUMAN IS OVER SIX FEET TALL?]
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[STOP SHEILA THEY MEANT IT]
[But Harrow's statement makes Douman's eyes widen in surprise as they glance between her and Sheila.]
Eh? Harrowhawk? Come now, I understand the preference and all, but surely you sending Sheila out to a bloody one on one wrestling battle is overkill? One might think you want me to stick around, or something?
[In the meantime, totally grabbing this outfit, top and all.]
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[Apparently Sheila is valid.]
I will be of no use in a wrestling match. I am a necromancer, not a brawler. But if you think you can help, by all means, do.
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[She sounds? So touched by Harrow's words? Terrible. Anyway, time to nudge Douman with her elbow.]
But who said it has to be one-on-one? We can two-on-one that bitch! One of us distracts her, and the other supplexes her. I suggest me.
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[Oh, and they are being nudged.]
...Hm. A worthwhile strategy! Yes, yes, I shall beguile the Amazonian! I am a coward who does not do well on the frontlines, but...! Yes, let us proceed!
[Just going to slap Sheila heartily on the back.]
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[She's just stating facts.]
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[SHE SLAPS THEM BACK but please know it is probably a butt slap. Because the height difference is so wild.]
Come on, guys! Let's go take a bitch out with fashion!
[Harrow is the only fashionable one here? Sheila is wearing a Hello Kitty suit with heels? Douman is wearing a black and green checkered two piece? My god.]
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[And as soon as they walk out onto the walkway...well, there she is! Giant, six-armed, with a glittering belt around her waist. The lady scowls at the trio, flexing one of those outrageously muscular arms.]
Hello, hello! [Douman bows, because of course they do.] We have come to accost you for your most valued treasure!
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Anyway, oh no. Girl hot.]
Ah. . . hello.
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Yeah! Sooo, it would be so great if you could just hand it over.
[The Amazon may be judging them. She is also flexing her muscles some more? Flexing as she points at a giant banner that says:
FASHION WEEK SPRING C. 1300 BCE
Seems like they gotta strut their stuff first.]
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[Douman actually does glance over at her, but...well, she can handle it! Probably. They look over to the banner, then at the other two quizzically. Help. They are Ye Olde, this is not the Approximate Modern Knowledge they have.]
What does one do? A fashion show. Do we just...walk?
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One walks and primps and poses, I believe. It is stupid
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Come on, it's not that bad. [A shrug, looking at... the other contestants that are presumably around here.] Put on your resting bitch face! Strut your stuff! Knock these fuckers out by being the hottest shit in this colosseum! That's it.
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[And they're just going for it. Of course they are. With a stride that basically screams "look at this hot bitch you want to punch in the face", Douman smirks at the crowd.]
Ahaha. Do you like what you see?
[And a glance to the other two.]
Come along, come along! Show yourselves off, too!
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Anyway, she leans over to Harrow and says:]
Everyone knows runway fashion has been on decline lately. I thought you did great.
[She's helping?]
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[This lady is obviously a fan favorite, what with the cheers and whistles from the crowd as she makes her way down the runway. At the end of it, she flexes with all six arms and winks, and several of the women in the crowd faint. If it was just a runway fashion contest, the Amazonian would be the clear winner, but obviously this isn't the end of it, since she swivels in place and points at the trio.]
Bring it.
[And three of her hands do a "come over here" gesture. Douman blinks, before turning to the other two.]
Well! Time to fight and beguile, and beguile and fight, then! Though...mmmmm. There's not much room on this walkway...
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[Crossing her arms, grumpily. Miss Hippolyta. . . your biceps. . .
Well, she's just going to approach this lady, roll back her sleeve and make a bicep of her own. There's nothing there. Just a sad noodle arm.]
As you can see, this match would be rather pointless. Would you please help us complete our task by lending us your belt?
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[She's speaking in a hushed whisper for Harrow and Douman, except... they are in the middle of a crowd. So her "whispering" is actually just "talking at a normal volume." Sorry, Miss Hippolyta.]