xistentia | Mingle Log #1: Landmarks of Xistentia

Mingle Log #1: Landmarks of Xistentia

Characters: All characters who opt in
Summary: A party to mark the first wave of incoming characters in Xistentia, punctuated with weird physics and an unexpected trip to the heart (or mind) of F.A.T.E.S.
Date(s): Late May 2017
Warnings/Notes: Sexual content and other potentially offensive or triggering material to be noted in headers.

Mix and Mingle

Landmarks of Xistentia

It starts with the daemons, because of course it does. At sunset, they begin to ring and beep and urge you to follow directions through the city. For those with animate daemons, be they animals or people, the programs are even more intrusive. Pushing and pawing and urging you to get up and go. The destination is not far from the first reclaimed parts of the city— a tall tower covered in overgrown moss and trees, located near the beach, the Westernmost edge of the city. Even with the chaos of vegetation growing over it, it's clear that the building is a miracle of technology and style.

"Connection is essential," the daemon tells you. "However, genital contact is not required."

You have reached the Central Citadel, and it's time to party!

EARLY BIRDS

But F.A.T.E.S. is as susceptible to peer pressure and trendy trends as anyone else! Early birds will find that the atrium lounge is a true mess at first. Birds nesting in the ceiling, thorn plants all across the floors, and the bottles and cups at the white bar are empty. As parties go, this sucks. However, within a few minutes of the first arrivals, changes begin to overcome the club area visibly. It is exactly the same as the way the city has begun to accommodate the visitors, but far more accelerated. Soon, the lights begin to power on, filling the room with ambient illumination. Plants recede, but do not disappear entirely. High above, the ceiling suddenly morphs to display the starry night sky. And most importantly of all, there's booze.

With any luck, someone around here knows how to bartend, because F.A.T.E.S sure does not. Various liquors from across the multiverse are available, along with drink umbrellas, speared olives, mixers and wedges of fruit. However, the cocktails that automatically fill the glasses vary in taste from acceptable to horrific. Luckily, the bar does not keep anyone out.

FASHIONABLY LATE

If you're more than thirty minutes late, the kinks have worked themselves out. The party is now in full swing. F.A.T.E.S. has surrendered drink mixing duty to various refugees^[1], resulting in much more palatable alcoholic beverages. Someone even found chicken fingers, which are making the rounds.

However, it appears that the invisible supercomputer is still trying to DJ. Predictably, the music ranges wildly based on the listeners-- one moment, you have 17th century lute music; the next, Trance. Blink 182 may even make a brief auditory appearance. It is not particularly easy to dance to this nightmarishly incoherent soundtrack, but it does provide a cross-section of multiversal experiences, for those of us who care about that kind of thing.

Alternatively, you can explore. The Central Citadel is filled with odd rooms. In the presence of only one or two explorers, the tidying effect doesn't happen nearly as quickly. Characters may find jungle-eaten conference spaces, computer laboratories, or even more sophisticated situation rooms thronged with vines and flowers. Somehow, the screens and monitors seem to work just fine with blossoms poking out of the harddrives. Rooms with beds are available as well, some of them already pre-carpeted with romantic roses. You might also find your way into a gym, where slightly rotted bokken and a dusty boxing ring nonetheless make for an interesting way to meet people who aren't into roses and laptops.

BONUS ADVENTURE: THE TEMPLE

Characters who meet new CR at the Citadel have a special experience. When the two (or more) individuals get to talking, their daemons both abruptly interrupt with a very important, not at all loaded question. "Do you want to see something cool?" If the daemon was too big to come inside, the question is posed via earpiece or whatever other device.

The correct answer is "Yes." And with that, the characters are abruptly transported to The Telexistence Temple, on the Easternmost edge of the city. The sudden quiet seems deafening; the darkness is almost blinding before one's eyes adjust to the lines of light running through the tall stone walls. It is much cooler here than it was at the Central Citadel, but it has its own eerie dignity.

"In the future, this is where you may access information about your worlds. Recovery information, save points, and both passive and active world entry points are located here." A beat. Possibly the daemon is watching you stumble around. "Most of the tools have been disabled in order to prevent damage from inebriated users."

However, two pieces of technology continue to cooperate. First, a huge slab of glossy black stone the height of a desk, emitting holographic Head Up Display upward, the Chronological Cartographer. Your character must touch the device. Immediately then, a bright flowing diagram of data begins to spin through the air, whirling with lines and circles and familiar names. It is a chart of the worlds your characters have lived in before and the people they have met in the past timeline. The splitting point to Xistentia is clearly marked, and your future here is a red line wavering in darkness. Toy with it a little, and you'll even be able to pull up significant dates, friendships, enemies. Moments of transformation. F.A.T.E.S. remembers it all, and it is only a quick teleport from the Citadel. (Fortunately, it is also a quick teleport back.)

Second, there is a monitor with another HUD. It displays a HUD with a single prompt: Amenities needed?^[2]

Starting the next day, the Temple will be accessible to all characters at all hours. Those granted access the night before will be able to find their way back with companions.

Footnotes

Some may be NPCs! Please avoid killing or maiming them without mod discussion first.
Go here and fill out the form, reply to that comment, if your character is going to take F.A.TE.S. up on the amenities request.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Do you need to lie down?

[ Inaction has never been much of a thing for either of them. They've always been running around, following Gansey's hints and jumping into new adventure after new adventure. And right now, it feels like they should be doing some research, drill the daemons, find somewhere to start to either go home, or save it.

And yet, the thoughts are so overwhelming right now that Ronan feels like he would follow Adam and just lie by his side, more awkward than he wants to be. ]

I don't want to pretend nothing's happening.

[ He doesn't mean about the world breaking apart, either, and he's pretty sure that much is obvious. ]

No.

[ Because he is still Adam Parrish and he can't escape that. He has to be forever moving forward. So he rubs his face and moves away from where he's leaning to glance back down the length of the apartment. ] No, I don't.

[ Because they need to sort this out, they need to figure out what to do. That's who they are. But he feels like he's all over the place and trying to find the right thread to get back to himself is almost impossible. ] Can I just -- ? [ Exhaling loudly. ] Can I touch you again? [ Helplessly. ] I know it's stupid, I know, but I thought you were dead and now I just want --.

[ His hands fall beside his thighs. ] I don't know. Are we hand holders?

[ Ronan laughs, sharp and a little mean. ] No, we're not.

[ He isn't, anyway. But he also knows just how hungry Adam has been by how urgent, almost violent his touches had been, and Ronan - he wants that again, his fingers against Adam's ribs feeling breaths and noises, Adam's hand to his mouth, Adam fitting his body against Ronan's, finding the ways they fit together.

He breathes out, slow and steady, then levels Adam with a clear, hopefully devastating look. ]

You can touch me again. [ He doesn't say please, but it's lodged in his throat, stuck there with how much he wants to feel Adam's hands on him again. ]

[ Adam knows he should be upset by that, by the lack of softness they have between them. He thinks he should hold Ronan's hand in times like this, when the world around them is falling apart. That's what people in relationships do. But maybe they'll get there, maybe they need time, maybe it's not something he should worry about.

Instead of worrying more on it, Adam steps forward, puts his hands on either side of his cheeks, thumb sliding over the sharpness of the other boy's cheekbone. ]

Okay.

[ Because Ronan's given him permission to touch, but Adam wants more than that. ]

Can I kiss you?

[ He let's out a whistling breath, stuck between his tongue and his teeth. The last time, Adam hadn't asked. Circumstances were different by Ronan wishes he hadn't asked now, either. Adam is still learning how to take, like he thinks he hasn't earned Ronan's kisses yet.

Ronan wraps his fingers around one of Adam's wrists and tugs, pulling him in, and kisses him, just as urgent as it's been before, just as hungry. Circumstances are different, but Ronan wants him just as much as he did back home, groaning against Adam's lips. Ronan's not good at talking, so he doesn't say yes. He just kisses Adam, his hand moving down along Adam's arm, from wrist to shoulder, and down to his hip, digging his fingers in like he wants to take root. ]

[ Ronan kisses him and it's like suddenly he's found his footing again. He surges forward, fingers once more grasping the loose fabric of the other boy's shirt, mouth hard and demanding at first. He wants to feel it, he wants to know this is real and he hasn't conjured him up out of sheer loss and hysteria. So he isn't gentle, maybe it should be. But Adam kisses him deeply regardless, kisses him like he's never kissed anyone, tongues and teeth and the harsh ragged sound of his breath. He pushes, without meaning to and they stumble a little, but the adjacent wall is there to catch Ronan's back and Adam brackets him there with his body.

The kiss softens, the thrum of his pulse still speeding along a highway, but it softens regardless. Adam's hands untangle to cup against Ronan's jaw, calloused thumb against his pulsepoint. When his lungs start to protest, he pulls back, but only far enough to catch his gaze, his own smile crooked. ]

Sorry. Adrenaline.

[ Or love, you know. ]

[ The second Adam's answering his kiss, it turns urgent. Ronan groans, puts his hands to Adam's hips as he pushes where Adam pulls, slide their tongues together, digs his fingers in and feels, feels Adam against him, all through his body, like a tornado blasting through Ronan's defenses.

He feels the bite of the wall against his back when Adam pushes him against it, and immediately melts into it, molds himself against Adam's body now that he's got the support of the brick to his back. He lifts a hand to Adam's hair, pulling, unsure his body is still his own as he pushes it against Adam's.

When Adam pulls away, Ronan groans again, resting their foreheads together and keeping his eyes closed - his heart beating hard in his throat. He releases Adam's hair, his fingers stiff. ]

Don't - don't fucking apologize.

Okay.

[ He's grinning, soft and eager, a strange happiness that has no place in this moment, in what has happened and what they're doing. ]

I just -- I always want to do that. [ He punctuates it by kissing Ronan again, this time quick and still sweet. ] Always. [ World ending aside. ] And I needed to, right then.

[ They are creatures of desire, they can't help it. ]

Always?

[ It's still a shock to him, like a bullet to the heart, to hear things like this from Adam. They're not exactly the best at communication, but sometimes, just sometimes, communication seems easy; moments like now, where their bodies are speaking for them. Adam wants him, in a way that Ronan is unused to, but grateful for. When he's looking, Adam is looking back. ]

Might need to do something about that, if we ever want to leave this place.

[ He laughs, leaning against Ronan and pressing his forehead to the other boy's shoulder. ]

I want --.

[ He wants so much that it feels incomprehensible. He's trying his best to gather the words to him but all he can really do is press against Ronan, hold on to him. ]

I want so much. But I need to do it right, too.

[ He can kiss Ronan all he likes, but the rest he's careful about. ]

Right how?

[ He isn't sure he understands, exactly, what Adam means. Or, actually, he understands perfectly, but his brain is refusing to compute. The words feel like tonguing a split lip, or rubbing a fresh tattoo; like an itch under the skin and if he inspects it too much, he's worried he won't be able to step back.

It's easier not to think about sex, concretely, with Adam, because if he starts, he might never be able to stop. ]

I don't know.

[ It's a confession, it's something he can't quite hide. He keeps his forehead pressed to Ronan's, his hands falling to his hips just to hold on. ]

I've never felt like this before.

[ He's wanted many things, but Ronan is new, Ronan is beyond the usual teenage fantasy. Adam wishes he could just act, just turn his brain off, but there's so much more to it. He doesn't want to hurt him. ]

I feel like I'm doing this all wrong. [ Disaster after disaster and in between he wants to kiss Ronan. ]

[ Ronan almost laughs. The funny thing, to him, is that there isn't really a right or wrong way to do any of this. This, them, the car crash they're sure to end up being - he doesn't believe either of them know what they're doing and how they should be doing it. ]

Whatever works, Parrish. [ It doesn't mean much. It means enough. ]

Maybe you should think less. [ And to prove his point, like punctuation, he reaches up to frame Adam's face, and kisses him again. ]

[ It feels like the first time.

Rolling thunder, crashing waves, an engine pushed to its capacity. Adam makes a noise against Ronan's lips, feels a reckless energy settle inside of his veins. He knows, objectively, that they should be more focused on figuring out what's happened, where they are, what they'll do. He knows and yet he just deepens the kiss, still gripping Ronan by the hips, his tongue pushing into his mouth.

He needs this, needs him, because it's the only thing keeping him sane right now. Ronan is the only thing stopping him from smashing up something. ]

[ Ronan's thumbs press underneath Adam's jaw, and he pushes from the wall, surging up closer, like it's in any way possible for them to be any closer while still wearing their clothes, and the sudden thought makes him let out a tiny noise against Adam's tongue, his mind snapping in half.

There are so many things they should be doing. And yet here they are, like the world has stopped around them, like it's 6:21 again, time ticking over and over the same second, that second where Adam slid his tongue against Ronan's.

His hands move, sliding around Adam's shoulders, holding him close as one hand moves up into his hair, unkempt and just the right length to hold onto. Adam is - everything, where Ronan starts and where he ends. He wouldn't, couldn't pull away even if he did want to, which he doesn't.

He doesn't expect they'll have that many occasions to do this. ]

[ The noise Ronan makes does nothing to help the situation.

Adam's skin feels too tight, too hot as they press together, stomach twisting into aroused knots. Sex has always been something he's aware of, he's not that much of a loser. But there was something different between idly considering it for the future and wanting it so badly he couldn't think.

He hasn't ever felt like this before, like he's on fire while hurtling at 90mph towards a cliff over a sea full of sharks. Like he wants to do something stupid and reckless and dangerous. Like he's never wanted anything more in his life than to kiss Ronan Lynch roughly and deeply.

Ronan's hands are in his hair and Adam is electric, is alive as his own hands press at the edges of a tshirt. He thinks he's about to shake apart, but there's no space between them to do so. ]

[ In its own way, it's similar to a fight - hands pushing and pulling and grabbing, their hunger for each other just this shy of violent. It's not soft, like Ronan always kisses would be; it's urgent and a fight for dominance, a lot less romantic than the world has led him to believe.

And it's kinda perfect, too. It's lighting in Ronan's veins, need in his pulse, sending his heart into overdrive. It's clumsy hands holding on too tight and bringing a bite of pain, grounding Ronan. The kiss lasts - he doesn't know how long it lasts, as they come up for air from time to time, diving straight back in, with aching lungs and trembling limbs.

It lasts and lasts and Ronan realizes he's hard in his jeans, fingers carving marks into Adam's hip, having slipped just under his shirt, shyly, barely. He pulls back suddenly, panting hard as he looks at Adam with wide eyes and blown pupils, arousal spiking when he sees Adam's spit-slick, kiss-bitten lips. ]

Jesus fucking Christ.

[ He has never seen Ronan Lynch quite this wrecked before. He looks like he's won something - a race, a fight, a war. Adam can't help the secret thrill of being the cause of it. When he smiles for it his mouth feels bruised, the good kind of ache, one born from exertion instead of violence. He wonders if he could feel that elsewhere, given the time. ]

Yeah.

[ Adam huffs out a breath, his hands still on the other boy's sides, his body still pressed up against him. Ronan's hard, he'd have to be an idiot not to notice it, but he doesn't say anything, just presses his forehead to Ronan's shoulder and lets free a weak laugh. ]

So, that's a thing. Making out.

[ Ronan forces his mouth shut, his hand moving from clenching into Adam's hair to holding the back of his head, cupping gently. The last time they kissed - the second time, it'd been close to this, but they'd stopped faster, to spend some time instead just touching each other in the semi-darkness of the Barns' front room.

This time Ronan doesn't want to stop, ever. But the awe in Adam's voice keeps him from leaning down again and just starting right back up, like it deserves an answer, a moment to pause and think. ]

You okay?

Yeah?

[ He lifts his head, looks at Ronan. ]

I think I should feel bad about it. That I'm okay. That I really like kissing you and I'm so fucking glad you're here. That I want to kiss you again instead of trying to figure what to do about all of this.

[ His gaze drops to Ronan's mouth, unbidden but hungry. ]

I really, really want to kiss you again.

[ Ronan takes in a breath, forcing himself to fill up his lungs, Adam's words taking him by surprise. He can't resist a mystery, and yet here he is, wanting to stay put, to be with Ronan some more.

It's quite a heady feeling. His own eyes drop to Adam's mouth, too, and he licks his lips, the breath rushing out of him hard and fast. ]

What are you waiting for, then? [ His voice is rough - he's still hard, still pressed against Adam, and entirely unwilling to change this state of affairs. ]

[ He can't resist a mystery, that's true. But there's actually no greater mystery than Ronan Lynch and how he tastes, so Adam is technically staying true to form here. He laughs a little, breathless, a strange new hysteria rising in his throat. ]

Mm.

[ This is ridiculous, he feels ridiculous, but he's leaning in anyway, pressing their mouths together. He's getting the hang of it, he thinks, slipping his tongue inside when Ronan parts his lips. He can feel each breath as Ronan's chest rises and falls, can sense the thrum of his beating pulse beneath his skin. It's intoxicating, and maybe Adam can understand being addicted if it's to this.

His hands have just pushed beyond the boundary of Ronan's shirt when Barricaded makes a shrill sound like a police siren. Adam jerks back with a start, wide eyed before they narrow into a glare directed at the robot. How dare. ]

Your presence is requested at the Atrium Lounge.

[ Blowing out an irritated breath, Adam's thumb strokes along bare skin. He wants to swear. ] What?

Fuck off, [ Ronan replies as the robot mentions whatever lounge, already leaning back in; he feels like they've spent too much time wasting it, already, and they have so much to catch up on. His own hands are around Adam's waist, pressing against the small of his back, and he uses the position to tilt Adam closer again.

And then Chainsawd swoops down from the rafters she'd been hanging out on, on Ronan's shoulders, and squeaks in his ear. ]

Your presence is requested at the Atrium Lounge.

[ Ronan lets out a growl, right against Adam's lips. ] What the fuck.

[ Chainsawd starts pecking at his cheek. ]

[ Adam laughs without meaning to, shaking against Ronan in a way that's part frustration, part adrenaline, and part hysteria. Because of course they're being interrupted. Why would this go any other way? ]

Why?

[ He asks Chainsawd, mostly because she's easier for him to see. The response is some spiel about refugees being invited to a meeting. Adam sighs, slides his hands slowly from beneath Ronan's shirt and smoothes out the creases. ]

We should probably at least show our faces. Find out if anyone else knows anything.

[ Which is the sensible thing to do and strangely not what he really wants. ]

[ Ronan just groans, leaning his forehead against Adam's. He doesn't want to; even if it's sensible and makes sense, but he doesn't want to. He wants to stay right where he is, right now, with Adam - and only with Adam. He isn't a social creature.

But Chainsawd is insistent, and Barricaded is being loud and impossible, and he's not sure they have a choice, exactly. ]

Fun.

Mingle Log #1: Landmarks of Xistentia

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