ANAPLASIA MODS (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anaplasiamod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
anaplasialogs2025-04-06 12:02 am
anaplasiamod) wrote in anaplasialogs2025-04-06 12:02 am
Entry tags:
home improvement
「FREE-FOR-ALL」
The lights in Esagila Base flicker in many areas, and the buzzing hum in power conduits makes it clear that power cables are getting a work out. Dust swirls in the area as they explore, disturbed by movement and the light shifting of air from barely functioning ventilation systems - their fans rattling in disrepair.
The good thing is that sound carries here - they can easily call to each other for help to fix up various sections of the space.
The barracks are basically scrap, collapsed, beds folded, ceiling bucked like something punched it in from above. Fortunately, there's enough rubble and debris that if anything once tried to force its way in through the metal ceiling, it's blocked now. But while a few scraps of blankets can possible be recovered here, an actual place to sleep must be found elsewhere.
The Promenade, lined with abandoned stalls and the skeletons of shops, is possibly their only chance at sectioned off privacy and a good prospect for a sleeping space. There are a few threadbare textiles clinging to metal racks and occasional rugs that can possibly be recycled for other uses. Some stalls look like they'd once been claimed by past residents: a blanket dragged into a corner, a spare pair of shoes that look like someone was trying to repair them, a can set aside for boiling water.
Alongside some of the supply closets, this area is where the most food can be recovered, preserved in various ways and looking as if they were once presented for trade or sale.
The bathrooms are intact but improvised shower curtains or some other form of divider might be a nice addition if they can be scavenged somehow. There are some small containers around the base to possibly fill with water from the bathrooms for other uses.
The medbay is sterile and hollow. Machines blinking in standby show that power is still available here but the place has clearly been ransacked. Still, there are technology and components here that can possibly be cannibalized for other use. The dust and grime is a slightly alarming prospect when it comes to using the space for the injured in the future, though. Maybe it'd be good to clean up? Cleaning supplies are available in a cabinet, one of few places some kind of disinfectant can be found, though it's not meant for use on injuries anymore than bleach spray would be. Apparently, in this other world a sponge is still a sponge, too.
The lounge doesn't have much going on since the screens are dead - but those screens are possibly usable elsewhere.
Other areas are simply dead and only usable as a possible space. The media rooms are dead. The galleys are intact and have cooking appliances but unpowered. The mess hall is demolished.
Supply closets throughout the place have odds and ends that might be useful. A few were meant for food storage and have the scraps of a few leftover food caches. Pots, containers, storage tubs and crates, hoses, a few hand tools here and there.
The security outposts have displays marking issues in the sensor net. It's obvious the net has small tears, though the shifting grid makes it hard to see where they are. They can be repaired with the right pieces scavenged from deeper in Uruk - but finding out the holes are is something that they can start investigating now.
The light therapy rooms have lights that may better serve elsewhere, and a long wiring in the ceilings that might be useful too.
And throughout it all, Esagila Base is not truly empty. It was once lived in. Signs are still there for those who pay attention.
Some walls are still marked with things like maintenance logs scrawled directly onto walls with greasy crayons, with names of people that are long-forgotten. "Assign Natla to reroute aft wing internal sensors to secondary projector - no scavenged nodes left." "Ask Kale if we can reroute lighting from powered side of lounge." "Remember to coordinate -" The last entry trails off mid-sentence, the grease crayon stylus on a string tied to a magnet on the wall.
In some rooms access panels are open and wires inside are twisted together with tape, even if someone took the tools and left in a hurry. Crates and bins in many places like the supply rooms are labeled in weary handwriting. "Water quality tests - test weekly." "Spent power cells, pending recharge." "Expired rations for composting - DO NOT EAT."
Some of the halls nearest the exposed outer area of the base, near the sensor grid, have extra security. Metal benches are flipped sideways to make low barricades. One area that might have been used for sleep, closest to the hallway that leads out, is carefully ringed in stacked cans, as if to provide an extra alarm.
On the walls of one of the inner-most hallways, someone - possibly several people judging from the variations in the handwriting - left drawings in greasy black, like all they had to finger paint was some kind of engine grease. Simplistic figures in body suits like their own. Monstrous shapes with too many sprawling limbs. Shadows looming from ceilings with big narrow eyes. Names appear beneath some of the human figures - some seem to have been crossed out with angry smears, as if the tiny hands drawing these monsters and shakily writing these names had been exorcising some demons and pent-up energy.
Just like those scrawled out names are gone, no bodies remain. If there were any living souls left, they're long gone.
Still, the bones of the place are here. Rooms can be cleared. Equipment can be cannibalized. Wiring rerouted. Items reorganized, repurposed, stockpiled, or repaired. There is power even if it's not always where it should be.
The place will need a lot of work to resemble anything even close to alive. It's fitting the city that can be seen in glimpses outside the exterior halls looks like some kind of eldritch nightmare. They have a lot of metaphorical necromancy to do.
OOC INFO
OOC: This is a "free-for-all" post where characters can [action-spam] threadhop like the network. They can jump around and claim areas for sleeping or work purposes and begin converting or repairing rooms. Supplies and some appliances may be scavenged from different areas to use in other areas. This is a post where characters can try their best to make the place livable.
no subject
Which isn't to say it's not disgusting, but disgust is one of the first emotions he learned to choke down and think past. ]
It varies. Some are weak, some are strong. Some are born from a single intense moment, some come from the collective fears of humanity over decades or centuries.
no subject
The Kamabo Corporation, the ones who took my memories...they'd been praying on refugee Octolings for two years before I fell into their trap...
I don't have a concrete theory yet but...has anyone ever tried to make people miserable to bring out these spirits? On purpose? Can you summon them that way even without being a sorcerer?
no subject
That's completely feasible. Normal people create cursed spirits without even realizing it. Controlling them or directing them towards a purpose, on the other hand, would be difficult.
[ But if someone just wanted to cause mayhem, and wasn't too worried about channeling that in a specific direction...sure. ]
The loose end I see in that scenario is how a non-sorcerer would know enough to do so with intention in the first place. Jujutsu society goes to great lengths to keep the existence of curses hidden from ordinary people.
[ Because if everyone found out, the feedback loop of all those new negative emotions would probably be too much for their modest numbers to handle.
And that's before Kenjaku even tries to pitch it to the US government as a solution to the energy crisis. Shit's gonna get crazy if he ever makes it home to a canon update.]no subject
[Carrot on a stick, but you know what he means.]
And I only lost my memories. The other Octolings, the ones that couldn't escape...It was like their souls were hollowed out. If their plans worked better when we were exhausted, they wouldn't need to know about shikigami or jujutsu or anything like that.
[He exhales a tiny sigh and shrugs. He feels...pretty OK, honestly.]
I don't even know if my world even works the same as yours does. I guess I would have to go pretty deep underwater to find a jujutsu sorcerer if they're that secret. But...it's a thread to pull. My friend Marina and I have been working on this for five years without any progress. Any new perspective makes it feel less...hopeless. So thank you.
no subject
I choose who I save.
Megumi's always picked and chosen. Someone who might go on to hurt others won't earn his mercy. It had become a point of contention with Yuji, who would go to the mattresses for anyone and everyone.
If anything he's said helps Eight to save his own people...well, Eight reminds him of Yuji. If he saves as many people as possible, regardless of whether they're someone Megumi would've agreed to help...that's not wrong, either. They don't have to agree. They just have to live by their own convictions. ]
I hope it helps, then. Somehow.