DORM LOGS: Now with EVENTS!

[raw_angel_power]

Who: All of Smash.
What: Dorm log! January edition.
Where: Student and Teacher dorms, and quite possibly beyond campus.
When: Approximately the latter half of January to the earliest of Februaries (15th - 5th)
Warnings: YOU KNOW YOURSELVES

We all know our characters experience downtime after classes and their busy schedules, and this is a good venue for those kinds of miscellaneous dorm-shenanigans to take place. Not only does it give your characters the easy chance to meet new people in a laid-back environment, but it's a good mechanism for strengthening CR. It's easy!

Feel free to begin in any way you please! Plan with (a) fellow player(s) if you'd like! Or, set up a thread and wait for characters to bite! Just add a thread with the room number (and date/time, if it matters) and the characters that reside there (just for reference!). You do not have to use one character's thread as a dual-purpose for both characters if you do not want to. Doesn't have to be a dorm room, either, if you have something else in mind. It could be the common room or the student science lab or wherever.

BUT WAIT!!!!!!

This time, we're shaking things up. On certain days, there will be an event going on that might help if you can't think of a good scenario to kick off a thread with. Here is the list!*

1/18: Hypno's Naptime. Much like the anime episode of the same name, there are mysterious sleep waves pulsing through town. No one is sure where they're coming from- it could be a rowdy Hypno that took over a broadcasting station one day, or maybe it's the local Disco Drowzee club that opened up just recently and their collective moves are enough to make you snooze. Well, these sleep waves might make you catch onto some unexpected z's, but more likely they can give you strange effects. Don't limit it to thinking you're a Pokemon, either. They can trick you into believing you're something else entirely, or just give you the urge to slip on a chicken costume and table dance in front of a crowd without finding it socially inappropriate. Just. WEIRD STUFF, MAN. Anything is possible.
1/19 - 1/25: Nancy's going on vacation. That's right, you sorry saps aren't gonna know what to do with yourselves now that no one's cooking for you. There was gonna be a substitute lunch bear/lady/alien space creature, but for whatever reason, they never showed up. So now, everyone must FEND FOR THEMSELVES. How will you fare if you don't even know how to flip a spatula?
1/25 - 1/27: Ice Cream Blizzard. Oh, you poor, starving Smashers. Not only are you bereft of nutrition, but it's cold and snowing and you can barely get out of the building without freezing solid! You might just perish, but wait- if you step outside and try to catch snowflakes with your tongue, you might just realize that it's... snowing ICE CREAM?!
1/29-1/31: Goomba Infestation. Everything is Goombas for 2 days in the boys dorms. Bowser is dicking around with "Itchymarbles" again, and it just spills out across the entire dorms. This prank has the unfortunate side effect of, well, affecting everyone on campus, and not just Scratchy McMarbles, so you might wanna be careful opening that fridge, since the wrong kinds of mushrooms might start pouring out. Jumping on them might work, but it's gonna take a lot of hopscotch to decimate an entire roomful!

This is a bit of an experiment, so... we'll see what comes of this.

*Note: These were determined by rng. Any other suggestions will be recycled for next time if the event aspect is successful.

Also, if you want easy access to the dorm living arrangements, here is the link.

Comments

[grimeofancientmariner]

Well, that wasn't too bad. Delta entertained the suspicion that 'getting used to it' actually involved unhealthy amounts of brainwashing before dismissing the idea. It didn't matter if everyone was brainwashed or not: as long as they stayed this friendly, he didn't care.

Except there was that one word. Usually.

"What about when it is dangerous? Haven't seen any turrets or bots around. Seems like a big oversight."

Not any security bots, at least. He'd met a bot, sure, but Delta was pretty sure that physics testing wouldn't save any lives in the case of an emergency.

[raced_god]

Falcon laughed at that, shaking his head a little and gesturing with a stray screwdriver.

"This is a fighting school. We're pretty good at taking care of ourselves."

Usually.

[grimeofancientmariner]

Doubtful glances don't translate well when one's eyes are obscured by glowing lights and confined behind a thin wall of glass and metal, but Delta tried his hardest.

"Fighting school... most of the kids I've seen weren't strong enough to take down a mackerel. Never seen anyone here use a plasmid more than once, too. No use looking spliced up if you can't hold your own."

The Big Daddy finished up his work with a final scrape and kachunk. Laying down the rivet gun, he held a small, rough sphere up to his viewport and began inspecting it.

i am late and this is short and i am sorry

[raced_god]

"They'll surprise you," he said with a shrug. There was, however, enough unfamiliar terminology to provide a good segue into further conversation.

"Plasmid?"

Said in a very do tell sort of way.

everything is fine and good

[grimeofancientmariner]

Delta will have to see them in action, then. He'll be happily surprised.

"...you don't know plasmids?"

Sure, the smart people stayed away from them. But not knowing about them at all? Either Falcon was a hermit or the future was a better place than he had assumed.

"They're, you know, bottles and syringes. Drink or inject them, messes with your DNA. Lets you do stuff, like this."

Delta clenched his left fist, and the air around it distorted. He pointed across the workshop, causing a wrench to fly from an unused workbench into his waiting hand.

[raced_god]

Le'ts go with "the future was a better place".

"Haven't heard the terminology, no." But it looked like he was about to get a demonstration--in his time at the school, Falcon had become more than accustomed to all kinds of supernatural powers and happenings, but the wrench flying across the room still surprised him, mostly because he didn't know what to expect.

Color him impressed, though. An injection that altered your DNA was more than a little intriguing.

"Where do you get it?"

[grimeofancientmariner]

"Vending machines, usually. None around here, don't think. Good, since the stuff makes you flip your wig."

Delta had already watched a semi-normal settlement of semi-likeable people fall into hell, slowly clamber back, and then fall head over heels back down. Going through that a second time wasn't on his to-do list. He would have been happy if that was why he couldn't say much about recreating plasmids, but did you know that genetics is actually super confusing?

Delta tapped one end of the wrench against his palm. "You need this?"

[raced_god]

"Vending machines?"

Well, he'd heard weirder. Falcon made a mental note to perhaps research this stuff further. Mostly because genetics was super confusing but also he was sort of curious about this whole superpowers-by-injection thing.

"You can keep it." Referring of course, to the wrench. It wasn't like he didn't have more.

[grimeofancientmariner]

"Well, yeah. They still exist somewhere, broken and ruining your day, right?"

Delta hadn't seen any of them, but he wasn't exactly looking out for the disturbing neon faces. He'd had enough clowns and bandits to last him a lifetime. If he ever slept, there's no doubt that stupid goddamn jingle would haunt his dreams. Kill your cravings with the Circus of Values! As it is, the Big Daddy still mouthed it unconsciously inside his helmet.

Since Falcon didn't have any pressing need for the wrench, Delta had something else in mind. He fit as much of it into his left hand as possible and clenched it tightly over the small metal sphere. One Incinerate! later, the melted metal was funneled into an opening in the bottom of the mini-turret. Delta dropped the remaining half of the wrench onto the workbench and threw a lightning bolt from his palm to the machine. Soon, it would be complete. It would be... alive!

[raced_god]

Though Falcon had sort of been pretending that Delta's project didn't interest him, these final touches caught his genuine attention, and he put down his own project in order to scoot over to Delta's side of the room. This, he wanted to see up close. The guy was melting a wrench and making lightning with his hands.

"What is that, even?"

[grimeofancientmariner]

What? First Falcon can't tell a plasmid when he sees one, and now he's gone fubar at a mini-turret? It's almost like the advanced technology from Rapture didn't survive to enlighten and amaze the rest of the world. But that's a ridiculous notion and will be discarded immediately.

"Right now, nothing. Few seconds, a turret."

Delta fiddled with the bottom of the sphere and the small antenna on the underside of his right wrist. After a tiny confirmation spark from the machine, he tossed it across the autoshop. The sphere expanded into a small cylinder topped with a gun barrel as soon as it hit the floor.

"Beautiful, isn't she? Needs a few lights and she'll be good to go."

Delta managed to restrain himself from running over and petting the turret as the barrel swept across the workshop. Instead, he turned to Falcon, looking for a reaction.

[raced_god]

YEAH WELL not everyone was a weird scubaman from underwater town.

He wouldn't exactly call Delta's end product beautiful, but it was certainly intriguing. Falcon continued to pretend to be mostly uninterested.

"What do you plan to do with it?"

[grimeofancientmariner]

Delta's not a weird scubaman from underwater town, he's a prototype scubaman from underwater town. That made him super special, or so the men in white suits told him.

"Figured I'd make more, toss them up around the grounds. Make things safer if a nasty rhubarb comes up."

He'd consider himself pretty qualified to do so, too. A few more weeks (or months) of wandering and he'd have a good mental map of the campus, and would know the best places to set up tactically-minded turrets. Best of all, they wouldn't be confusing and computerized, so no webhacking cybercrook could control them!

Delta made a mental note to find some quality booze later for thinking up such a great plan. At the moment, however, it was the perfect time to try and acquire an accomplice.

"You want, I could teach you how to make them. Not too difficult."

[raced_god]

"Sure." Falcon was always up for learning new things, and if he knew how to build them, he would know how to take them apart. Turrets tossed up around the grounds seemed kind of like a disaster waiting to happen.

Not that those thoughts showed on his face, of course.

"Always willing to learn."

[grimeofancientmariner]

Step one, Telekinesis. Step two, point at turret. Step three, nyoom. Delta caught the sphere as it flew towards him and turned it over, showing off a little hatch on its base.

"Any Daddy that wasn't no fuddy-duddy had a few of these on them. Mostly just simple parts. Got your small caliber packed in the trunk, concentric cylinders stand it up, axle through the center and it's good."

He opened up the hatch and turned the sphere sideways, spilling some of the grey-green ooze onto the autoshop floor.

"Everything in Rapture ran with this magnetic goo, you know? Takes in radio, electricity, you name it. Just fill your machine up and give it a spark, got yourself a swell little thingamabob for a while."

[raced_god]

NO NOT OOZE ON THE FLOOR

At least hearing that it was magnetic goo kind of piqued his interest, though Falcon did look momentarily horrified about the fact that it was being dumped on the floor. HIs beautiful, pristine autoshop floor.

But still, it was just cool enough for him to not be angry about the floor.

"You got any more of that stuff?"

[grimeofancientmariner]

Before, it was a floor, and now, it's science! Rapture-approved science, so likely incredibly hazardous. Falcon should probably clean that up before it ends up inside an engine and makes things a little too exciting.

"No. Not hard to make, though. Swipe a magnet over any kinda metal goo," Delta held up a palm dancing with sparks, "and boom. Course, you'll need a regular magnet. And regular goo, unless you have more extra wrenches."

He closed the hatch on the mini-turret and pocketed it. "Dunno if this'd work with any of your future stuff. Might be worth a try, you got any projects that aren't going anywhere."

[raced_god]

On the contrary, Falcon was already thinking about what might or might not happen should he put it in an engine. He was totally gonna put it in an engine. That was generally how he did things--new, interesting, potentially volatile substance? Put it in an engine.

"Actually..."

But speaking of projects that weren't going anywhere.

"Is that some kind of powered armor? That you're wearing?"

Or was it just a weird scubaman suit.

[grimeofancientmariner]

"Nah, none of that stuff in here. Just valves, tubes, and pumps."

At least, Delta assumed. Meddling with something that was directly hooked into your circulatory system is never a good idea, and he wasn't crazy enough to try it.

"Powered armor'd be a nightmare. One dart and your suit turns on you."

[raced_god]

Falcon managed to look vaguely disappointed in learning the TRUE PRIMITIVE NATURE of Delta's scuba suit. He shook his head.

"I've seen some pretty impressive power armors. Very effective, basically hack proof."

Not that he'd ever asked Samus whether or not her suit was hack proof. He'd just kind of assumed. Bio-tailored to her and only her, and all.

[grimeofancientmariner]

Well, of course if the stuff wasn't goo-powered, it would be hack proof. In retrospect, that was clear as day. Come on, Delta. Get with the program!

That aside, unhackable power armor sounds like a Daddy's dream. The strength of a Bouncer with the speed of a spider splicer, not to mention the possibility of a built-in arsenal... just thinking about it made Delta all tingly with excitement.

"Really. Got any in here? Be keen on seeing it, maybe, ah, test it out."

Yeah, this is the future, they have jetpacks and lasers and shit. Hell, Falcon's probably got a hoard of robo-suits in his closet.

[raced_god]

"No, uh...I'd have to go get it."

Meaning he had like. A glove. Shoved somewhere with his other unfinished projects, and it wasn't like he was just going to ask Samus to show her suit to some weird scubaman.

"I'll bring it in if you're interested."

[grimeofancientmariner]

"Sure am. You busy now? Fine if you are, just... haven't seen enough modern tech."

Delta could wait. He had metal to make one more turret, probably. Or better yet, to teach Falcon how to make one himself. That'd be some important progress in this weird trans-timeline cultural exchange. But power armor took precedence, in this case.

Actually, power armor pretty much always takes precedence.

[raced_god]

Yeah, power armor was pretty great.

"Gotta dig it out from some projects at home. I'll bring it in tomorrow."

Truly, this would not be the last of their cultural exchanges.

[grimeofancientmariner]

Tomorrow? That was a whole day away. 24 hours. 1440 minutes. 86400 seconds. Some incredibly large and intimidating number of milliseconds.

Delta knew there was no helping it, though. He didn't know where Falcon lived, so a midnight visit was out of the question. He made a mental note to figure that out - if the Captain woke up in the middle of the night for some reason, the sight of his workshop buddy was sure to calm him down.

"Mm. No use dogging you over it. That your only project, then?"

Not that he could really talk. Working on turrets for weeks on end probably would have been hell for anyone else.