THE SQUAD DOES AN INTRO: GROUP MEET UP - [modplot] [event] [free-for-all]

[wildermods]

THE SQUAD DOES AN INTRO: GROUP MEET UP
OOC POST
The Green's binding spell finally works out its kinks and the entire group is teleported into the same area in the center of the city, near the statues of the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Scarecrow.

Everyone in the group feels a tingling sensation as the magic sets in place and binds them. Anyone that tries to leave will now find themselves being teleported back if they wander too far. The group will have to try to stay together when it moves now.

They have a little bit of time to figure things out.

---

OOC INFO
✦ Post in actionspam format. Plots and mod-run events in the game are meant to be in actionspam format to keep a brisk pace.

✦ Free-for-all Post. This event will be in "free-for-all" format, meaning that threadhopping is encouraged and that threading should be treated in the same conversational way as network posts.

✦ By now, the language magic should be fully in place. By now, everyone should have magically learned Sylvaen so that everyone can speak it fluently and understand each other.

Comments

[awfulcer]

[Now that things have calmed down and he's spent some time napping off the worst of the drunkenness, Dixon's trying to take advantage of the fact that he's surrounded by other people. The drive to not be alone with himself is hard and real, especially now that his thoughts aren't so scrambled by inebriation.

He was getting along fine with Revan before the whole spat with Phosphowhatever, and he's pretty sure he's mad at the weird gem person instead of her. He ambles over and squats down next to her and the light sabers, still a little unsteady but much more lucid than he was earlier.]

Want me to see if I can help?

[He can't, but when has incompetence ever stopped anyone from trying?]

[therevanchist]

[Yeah, no, but she'll play along.]

Do you know much about diatium power cells?

[Revan plucks a single component from the hovering parts. It's a featureless silver cylinder the diameter of a pencil but only about as long as a finger. It narrows to some kind of connector on one end, and looks like the sort of thing you'd order out of an electronics catalog.]

It's brand new and shouldn't be anywhere close to drained yet.

[awfulcer]

Plenty. [For a second he pauses, then snorts.] Nah, not a thing.

[He squints at them instead of trying to pick them up; for all he knows they're going to zap him or bite him or whatever. That seems plausible within this realm.]

So it's like a battery?

[He glances over at Revan as if he's hoping for some sort of approval. After all, she seems like the most level-headed person here.

It also reminds him with a bit of a pang that his iPod will eventually run out of batteries, and he can't be having that. He'll have to find someone with a charger. (The realization that there's also no electricity out here hasn't hit him yet).]

they're self-recharging because star wars is UTTER BULLSHIT

[therevanchist]

Yes.

[Good job, Dixon. Revan doesn't even sound patronizing. He's obviously trying to connect, clumsily and perhaps not even knowing why himself. Knocking aside that outstretched hand would serve no one, no matter how much of an ass the man is.

She's not quite Light Side enough not to be a little sulky on the inside that no one's around to see how Light Side she's being.]

It shouldn't need an external recharge unless I use it near-constantly for weeks.

[Revan gents into trouble near-constantly, but doesn't have her lightsabers on for all of it.]

[awfulcer]

[He sits down and chews on a fingernail absentmindedly, then catches himself and stops. He can tell she's being patient with him, humoring his cover of interest in her space-age technology, and he doesn't totally blame her that it probably takes effort. He didn't exactly come in making the best impression to the whole group, even if he still feels pretty justified.]

Alright, here's a stupid question.

[As if Dixon hasn't asked plenty of those in the last few hours.]

How do we know it ain't already been a few weeks? We're not all from the same place, and some planets have days different than others.

[The corner of his mouth ticks up.]

Since you're from Venus or wherever.

[therevanchist]

Dantooine.

[Look, they already have an in-joke.]

Hmm.

[She's not sure how to engage with his misunderstanding of the effects of planetary day length on the passage of time, but his underlying point is still one to consider, since none of them know how long the vision lasted.]

If it's not being used, the power cell should be good indefinitely.

[So no way of telling there. She opens up her hand and the cell floats back to its place in the hilt before the parts collapse into each other and the lightsaber is in one piece again.]

None of the men have beards, though.

[awfulcer]

Gesundheit.

[On their way to building a regular stand-up routine.

He's surprised when she actually considers his question. He was expecting it to get shot down like people his (totally plausible, in his mind) tourist trap theory.]

I don't know if some of them could even grow them, [he says, casting a skeptical eye at some of the youngsters among the group,] but that's a good point. Maybe someone tampered with our stuff. Maybe there's something tampering with like, the electronics like what they say the Russians got.

[For comparison, he pulls out his cell phone and checks the battery.]

I still got full power. [He sounds almost disappointed at his new theory being bunk.] But no service.

[therevanchist]

Dixon, I have no idea what a Russian is.

[Revan reaches into her tunic--it has pockets!--and comes out with another device, a cylinder about the size of a roll of quarters with what looks like a speaker grille on one end.]

My comlink's dead entirely.

[awfulcer]

Commies, that's what they are. But rumor is they have these bombs that can shut down all electric anywhere nearby, so I wondered if that was maybe it.

[He checks his iPod too. Full battery, minus a smidgen from what he was listening to earlier. It's an old one, though, so it wouldn't have an internet connection anyway.]

That like a walkie-talkie? You know, you talk into it and someone else hears it far away?

[Dixon's starting to keen onto the fact that their worlds are so different that he might need to explain some of the things that seem obvious to him, just like she hopes he'll do for hers.

He's trying. He's trying very hard.]

[therevanchist]

Ion cannons?

[All casual-like, because those are totally a normal thing, right? It doesn't occur to her she needs to explain what an ion cannon is, since he's talking about it killing electronics, and everyone knows what electromagnetic weapons do. Also, she's not touching "Commies," since it sounds like a slur.]

It's a radio, yeah. This one's short-range without a repeater, though. Maybe a hundred kilometers if the ionosphere's favorable.

[She has never heard the term "walkie-talkie" before, but the meaning comes across from context, so obviously Dixon knows the basics of how radio communications work. Or such is her touching faith in him not being a complete dumbass, anyway. In her own weird, sci-fi monoculture way, Revan's as provincial as he is, coming from a universe where little changes over the millennia.]

[awfulcer]

I think they're called EMPs. I don't really follow international news much.

[Even local news he mostly gets from his mama, who has nothing better to do than sit around the house watching the television and feeding the tortoise.]

Right, okay. Our walkies go about two miles, so that converts... [oh god, math. He tries not to make it clear that he's moving his fingers on one hand to count off multiples of two.] ...to yours is about thirty times better.

[So he can assume her world is probably way more advanced on tech than whatever made it to Ebbing. Maybe a few generations? He's got no idea.]

So we are from different times.

[therevanchist]

Electromagnetic pulse.

[Revan fills in the acronym automatically, and some part of her she's not in conscious control of supplies a list of tactical uses. Undirected atmospheric deployment is primarily useful for knocking out comms and blinding orbital sensors, but since it doesn't discriminate friend from foe and is unlikely to completely overcome hardening, ion weapons are preferred unless ground-based forces are acceptable collateral.

She kind of hates that part of herself, and latches onto Dixon's newest theory instead of thinking about war.]

Time travel? That's a little far-fetched, don't you think? [Says the laser sword-wielding woman without a trace of irony.] ...It's 25,097.

[Sure, why not, someone might have been in carbon freeze.

...What the heck kind of silly measurement is a mile, though?]

[awfulcer]

[At that, Dixon actually breaks out laughing. It's so incredible and unexpected that a kind of perverse humor hits him like a lightning bolt. He actually cracks up so fast that the twitch in his face opens up some of the plasma scab around his cheek.]

You're shitting me.

[His laughter collapses into an almost giggle and he exhales deep.]

It's 2017 where I'm from. Two-thousand seventeen years since baby Jesus.

oops it's actually 21,097 (because THAT makes it less ridiculous)

[therevanchist]

[Revan winces as he reopens the injury that she can't heal.]

The calendar I'm using dates from the founding of the Republic. Who's Jesus?

[She's pretty sure if they were important enough to have a calendar pinned to them, she'd at least recognize the name, though there's always the possibility the Council erased outside the lines here and there.]

[awfulcer]

[He gently cups his hand over the injury, trying to just keep it from being exposed to the air for a moment. But then she goes and says something he's figured he'd never hear in his life.

He just stares at her a moment, a furrow kind of pulling his brow together, blinking, his jaw a little slack.]

Jesus Christ.

[It's less an explanation and more an expression of surprise, taking the name in vain, etcetera etcetera. He takes a deep breath.]

Jesus Christ. The son of God. Do your people not have Jesus Christ?

[therevanchist]

...Which god?

[Revan asks sincerely, head cocked in curiosity. Jedi, being basically pantheists with tangible proof their beliefs are right or at least onto something, have at most an academic interest in other religions.]

[awfulcer]

The God. The Almighty God.

[It's not that Dixon hasn't heard of pantheistic religions, it's just that he's never run into anyone who actually believes in it. He's pretty sure he's met a few Jewish people, but never actually talked religion to them except to heckle.]

You ain't like a Hindu or something, are you?

[loadme]

Um, communism ended in Russia some time ago...

[She just wants to. Get that bit in there.]

[therevanchist]

Is that a problem?

["Communism" she has a concept for, at least, though why there'd be a derogatory nickname for it is beyond her.]

[awfulcer]

Did I ask you? [Dixon snipes over his shoulder.] Just because Russia's not communist doesn't mean Russians aren't commies anymore. There's government and then there's people.

[He's distrustful of Monika. She's peppy in a way that sets him on edge.]

[loadme]

Just the opposite, really!

It was tied together with the end of the Cold War, a state of high tension primarily between the United States, the Soviet Union, and both of their allies!

There wasn't any actual fighting, but throw in that they were both superpowers with access to nuclear weapons and-

[She stops once Dixon speaks up.]

Sorry. I just didn't want her to have the wrong information...

[suckitblue]

Wait, why are we arguing about 20th century history?

[ Simmons is lost and his head hurts. ]

[awfulcer]

[Dixon throws his hands up.] When did this turn into everyone else’s business, anyway? Did I sign up to get lectured on history by a whole gang when I wasn’t looking?

[suckitblue]

[ Simmons shrugs. ]

In my experience? This is pretty much just how group discussions work.

[therevanchist]

[While the peanut gallery is at it, Revan has gone distant, rubbing her chest like she's in pain. The girl--Monika--had mentioned nuclear weapons, and something had shifted in Revan's head, a ghost of old pain surfacing but bringing with it no explanation.]