sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] PLOT: Down the Tubes: Alarm

WHERE: The bunker & elsewhere
WHEN: 1 September 2018
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn on threads
NOTES: Plot Details | Bunker Details | Bunker Map & Key
Threads may take place ANYTIME during the plot, including before, during and after the tubes have been opened, just please do not godmod tube arrivals without explicit permission. Related threads not in the bunker are welcomed, as are general bunker exploration/reaction threads that have nothing to do with the arrivals. Please reference the bunker key doc for what is and isn't available to explore at present.

Deep under the mountain, tucked away in the newly-discovered bunker complex, there is a room where everyone begins. It is filled with equipment — Computer consoles, monitors — but the point of it all resides within ten vertical stasis tubes lined neatly along a far wall.

One of them has been cracked and lies dormant, dry. In six of the remaining are bodies, unconscious and floating in their familiar vari-colored scrubs, vital signs ticking calmly off on their respective readouts.

In the corner, near the cracked tube, the ceiling has shattered and tumbled inward, across the floor and over the largest console in the room — The one flashing 24 HOURS UNTIL STASIS FAILURE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sam was so fucking good at analyzing and over-analyzing shit. The problem was, it sometimes got in the way of her ultimately good intentions. The fact that the road to hell was paved with them was constantly on her mind, of course. It was sort of the definition of the journey that had led her to this moment.

But she shoved all of that to her subconscious.

And she held out her hands, pressing the vial of her blood in to Liv's palm.

"This is a medicine of last resort. Not last resort. Last, last, last, last, seriously no other options, last resort." She was talking as fast as possible, to keep herself from changing her mind. "I want you to have it. Just in case." She had people she cared about. She deserved it.

Sam couldn't second guess that fact.

"What?" I say, squinting down at the vial with Sam's initials, and then look back up to her, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Yeah, it's legit embarrassing how long it takes me to clue into what she's talking about.

"Like turn someone into a vampire?" And now I'm confused for a whole other pile of reasons. Apparently I didn't go over Zombie 101 with Sam like I probably should have. "I mean... Okay. If they prefer it, I guess. But I can turn people into zombies as a last, last, last, last resort, too, so if you would rather keep this or get rid of it—" I hold up the vial, eyebrows arching. "Otherwise I'm just going to label it 'Last, last, last, last resort: Version Vampire' and stick it on a shelf."

The fact of the matter was that Embracing had been one of the first things Sam had asked about, when she was starting out her 'Requiem,' as they called it. Karen had been appropriately horrified. And it had taken Sam a long time to explain that she didn't want to know how to do it, so she could.

More so she could avoid it.

She shook her head a little bit. "It has to be fresh from the tap to turn someone," she said. "Which is never going to happen. But vitae on its own...uh...fancy word for blood. Vampire blood has some healing properties. The side effects are shitty as hell." Even if they worked in the clown rodeo. "But vampirism isn't one of them."

"Fresh from the tap," I echo with a considering cant of my head. "Good to know." And a lot safer than what I've got going on, so points to vampirism.

"What sort of side effects are we talking about here?"

Everything's a balancing act in this place when it comes to the medical profession. The local plant life have a lot of benefits, too, but the side effects can be nasty. Plus, a lot of our supplies are very limited. You always have to ask if it's worth it, and I'm not talking about debating whether an opioid is more appropriate than extra-strength Tylenol. You've got to figure in the spring water, things like that. It's all just a little skewed.

Sam jammed her thumb into the hollow of her eye, rubbing her brow bone. "Um, the aging process is halted for a month," she said. "Then when it wears off, it zooms back on track." For ghouls who'd been drinking vampire blood for years and years and years, this was a serious problem. But she figured a month wasn't so bad. Not for a normal human, anyway.

"There's also a slight risk of dependency, but if you don't tell them what you used, it's not like they're going to be able to track me down for more."

She hoped. They might still come. And not know why.

"Back home, it would come with the possibility of developing a minor case of mind control." She winced apologetically. "But I don't think that's likely here." Unless the Overlords thought it was funny.

...they could?

"How in the— No," I begin, and then lift a palm, shaking my head. "I'm not going to even ask what differentiates a minor case of mind control right now. That's the kinda conversation that really requires being the hell out of here."

I reach for Sam's arm again and start moving back down the hall. When we have a moment to actually breathe, when we're a little less worried about whether our lives were actually real, or are actually real, we can sit down and go over the specifics of vampire blood as pharmaceutical.

[MINGLE] PLOT: Down the Tubes: Alarm

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