Happy Valentine's Day!

[piper90npcs]

Who: Rig workers and New Hires
What: Valentine's Day Events
Where: The Rig
When: Valentine's Day
Warnings/Notes: Violence likely.

A. Cupids aren't as cherubic as they appeared in Renaissance-era artworks. The little bastards float with the bodies of babies, but the huge, flatly reflective grey eyes of a cave-dwelling monster and the teeth of a viperfish when they open their mouths to deliver a hideous, staccato cackle. They flit around in the air in clumsy bursts with all of the grace of a concussed mosquito, only remaining upright half the time, but twice as hard to catch. That doesn't change the pinpoint accuracy of their aim, however, as they open fire with arrows of pyrite.

That's another difference in the myths. They don't target people and make them fall in love. They target lovers, or people with crushes, shoot to wound, and feed. Dozens of them careen drunkenly through the halls of the Rig, searching for people who are a little too obvious about their unspoken desire for affection. When caught, they squall like babies, then try to take a chunk out of their captor with their vicious mouths, opening far wider than a normal baby should be able to manage. Fortunately, they don't seem to be more durable than most babies, though their appearance and cries are enough to put off many Rig workers from a solution more permanent than trapping them in a closet or under a crate.

---

B. "It will be darling," Sharon says, smiling. "Do it." Despite the honeyed words of previous arguments, this time it's backed by steel. She smiles and casually knocks a cherub out of the air with a blast of rock salt, followed by a few vicious, but loving ('It's all about love,' she says. 'Jesus wants it that way.') strokes with the butt of her shotgun. "It's for morale, dear. Management thinks that it will help you all bond and realize that things aren't so bad here. You know, get you involved in some normal activities." She pauses, then whacks the little beast one more time. "...It twitched. Now, shoo. This box has all of the lace and paper you'll need. Even some gluesticks. But, please, be a dear and don't let Mac have too much paste. You know how he gets, bless his heart."

Yes, that's the official stance of Jorgmund. Mac can have a little glue, as a treat. On holidays. And, as promised, everything is there. Glue, pens, sparkly glitter, safety scissors, paper, and a load of candy message hearts, 'for inspiration'. There are even a few examples, addressed to Sam, to show the 'less fortunate' New Hires how to do it.

Of course, given that they're supposed to be doing it in between their regular chores and clearing out cherub corpses, Jorgmund doesn't exactly have high hopes. But an attempt is being made.

---

C. It was wheeled out from the darkest depths of collections. Large. Looming. Non-functional. It was only with much cajoling that they could even get Brainiac 5 to touch the thing, for reasons that become clear as soon as the computer boots up. It proudly proclaims itself to be property of Brainiac 5 and the Legion of Super Heroes, but not one that anyone here has ever been a member of.

They'd probably remember a computer dedicated to kissing, after all.

Yes, one of the public events planned for this year's Valentine's is finding the Perfect Smooching Partner, and Brainiac 5's Love Machine (Demands for rebranding were curtly refused) will help the world find their match... within the Rig, of course. When two people kiss, it tracks technique, passion, and the lighting of the brain's pleasure centers to rate their kiss on a scale of 1-100. Once everyone in a group has kissed at least one other partner, it collates the data collected and rearranges their images onscreen to show their true best match.

Security's already gotten involved and the only reason that the entire event hasn't been shut down is because there's money being passed around on who starts the next fight. Things have already gotten violent more than once and a Security officer's already been sent to Medical for a busted nose.

The New Hires aren't being forced to participate, but there's definitely a few very interested workers lined up, popping some breath mints, and straightening their shirts.

---

D. The banner reads "Speed Work-Appropriate Platonic Friendship/Networking" because, after all, relationships are forbidden by Jorgmund. Nevermind that half the crew is hooking up with each other, workers are expected to be married to the company, and the company is a jealous mistress. That doesn't stop some enterprising individuals from trying to make the most of the situation, as Mr. Sagittarius would undoubtedly cheerfully inform you if he could read these words. But since he can't, you don't have to imagine his smug little grin. Bonus.

Several tables have been laid out in rows, with lonely men and women seated at each one. These include several New Hires. The other side of the table seats include other workers, including several other New Hires, who get up and leave every eight minutes (Or ten posts), moving one seat down. The idea is that they'll take this time to bond with one another, find commonalities, and strike up a lifelong friendship. They've been offered a list of starter questions as possible starters, filled with corporate-approved humor that wouldn't make it into Reader's Digest.

One thing's clear, though. The people that haven't been forced into this, at least the Rig worker side anyway, are honestly extremely lonely people who are desperate for any connection that doesn't come from a plastic smile. After all, there's only about a thousand people on the Rig at any given time and many of them are stuck in jobs deep in the bowels of the machine that offer little chance for socialization. Even the workers that were married, grandfathered in before the harsher fraternization codes were put in place, rarely see their spouses or children aboard due to conflicting schedules.

Every now and then there's a gunshot from the background as someone takes another potshot at a cupid.

Comments

[infailtration]

[ York lets it go at that for now, sure he'll find out the 'how so' of it later when he sees her to talk to Delta and maybe train. He shrugs and takes a bite of the shitty mess hall eggs, only to glance back up with a quirked eyebrow when North claims crazy stuff is happening to him. As he swallows he looks his friend over -- everything seems normal? ]

What kind of crazy stuff?

[bothbarrels]

Well, you know how it is here. People meet other people who say they already met them all the time here, right?

[ He shrugs helplessly. ]

Apparently some other reality version of me had a girlfriend who's been brought here. She knows a lot about me, and she didn't just guess, either.

[infailtration]

[ York nods his agreement as he takes another bite, still listening. It's happened to him, too, the whole Legionnaire deal -- but he doesn't expect North to say his alternate self's girlfriend is here.

He puts his fork down and studies North, trying to figure out how he feels about it. ]

She gets the fact you're not the same person, right? No pressure?

[bothbarrels]

[ North is eating as well, and he swallows a bite before answering. ]

Oh, yeah, she does. Apparently wherever she came from they had a way of reprogramming people. They'd just take memories. She said, 'people forget things.' Like it's just normal.

[infailtration]

...that's fucked up, just saying.

[ Not her means of coping, necessarily, but the fact that it happened with that amount of regularity. ]

But if she gets that, I guess just get to know her like anyone else and see what happens?

[bothbarrels]

Yeah, I intend to. You know, she didn't tell me who I was to her at first—just that I was a 'friend'. She told South, though. That's how I found out.

[ He thinks about the way they hit it off right away—so easy, like two fixtures that fit together clicking together just right. He smiles unconsciously. ]

You'll know her when you see her; she's got pink hair.

[infailtration]

[ York doesn't miss that smile. He leans forward and lowers his voice conspiratorially. ]

You like her already, don't you? You're all, 'I could see it.'

[bothbarrels]

Yeah, I can. I see what I must have seen in her the first time around.

[ As if it's a forgone conclusion there'll be a second. He shakes his head with the sudden realization of it. ]

I didn't mean that the way it sounded.

[infailtration]

Didn't you? It's okay if you did, there's no dating poli-- wait, I guess there are here, actually. Whatever, my point stands. You're allowed to like somebody.

[bothbarrels]

I just don't like taking things for granted. I mean, I've known this woman for the grand total of a day.

[ He hears some kind of commotion out in the hallway, and he glances toward the door, giving a guess at what's going on. ]

Some assholes getting into a fight out there.

[infailtration]

I don't think it's the same thing, man. You can like her without taking anything for granted. Trust me on that.

[ Something bitter rises in him and he pushes it down, reaching for the shitty coffee instead. He doesn't like thinking about the fact that Carolina doesn't want him. It'd be easier if he could flip a switch and not be in love with her anymore, honestly. He doesn't want to be jealous of North.

The clamor in the hall does reach his ears, too, though, derailing his unpleasant thoughts. York glances over his shoulder at the door. ]

Kind of early and public for a fight...

[bothbarrels]

[ That's when they enter, some wheeling, flying things that look like...infants? But mean ones. ]

What the hell...?

[ The cupids seem to know their marks right away, careening directly to where York and North are sitting. North jumps up out of his chair in anticipation, but not fast enough to prevent being bitten. Actually bitten! North lets out a screech of pain and shoves the thing away with his other arm. York seems to also be a target, and North picks up his lunch tray to bat that cupid away, dumping the rest of his food on the table. ]

[infailtration]

[ Well, then. They're under attack? By... babies with horrifically sharp teeth and little bow and arrows. The fuck? One flies right past him and bites North, and York is up and in a fighting stance instantly, punching the one aiming for him directly in the nose. It seems undeterred, swooping around to dodge North's tray and come up behind York, biting deep into his shoulder. He lets out a shout and grabs one of the thing's wings, trying to rip it off him. ]

What the fuck?!

[bothbarrels]

I don't know!

[ North gives the baby another good whack, causing it, this time, to fall to the floor. He stares at it for a moment, horrified that he'd just batted a flying baby onto the floor, but the second one swoops for him again. ]

Shit shit shit!

[infailtration]

[ It's not a baby, as far as York's concerned, no matter how it looks. And sounds. Oh god. It's trying to get back up -- he tries not to think about it being a baby when he brings his boot down on its neck. There's a sickening crunch, and it goes still, but the other one is still going for North.

York jumps onto the table to be able to reach it and grabs the thing by its wings. It screeches bloody murder at him with a mouth full of long teeth, fat little arms reaching toward his friend. ]

This kind of thing happen often around here?

[bothbarrels]

Well, we did just fight a shapeshifting—

[ His words are cut off when the cupid bites, but this time it had come at him in such an angle that he's able to grab it bodily with both hands. He slams it to the floor, spiking it like the football.

This doesn't defeat the cupid, however, and it begins to wail, its cry sounding like a strange mixture of its staccato laugh and real baby's cry. North's eyes are wide in horror once again. ]

[infailtration]

North!

[ The baby is clearly preparing itself to launch at him again, and York jumps down off the table onto it. Its cry is cut off by another horrible wet crunch and York steps back shakily, cradling the arm with the damaged shoulder. ]

Ugh... are you okay?

[bothbarrels]

[ He immediately grabs for York, putting an arm around his waist, more concerned about how his friend has fared than himself. Yes, the bites have taken out chunks of flesh, but York's bleeding into his shirt. ]

I'll be fine. Are you hurt?

[infailtration]

That was a deep bite.

[ He leans against North slightly, letting go of his arm to pull his shirt aside -- there's blood freely flowing from deep tears. ]

Might not be as bad as it feels, but I think we should both go to the infirmary.

[bothbarrels]

[ North sets a hand on the stinging feeling at the base of his ribs on one side and realizes he's also freely bleeding. ]

Yeah, I think we need some bandages. Goddamn.

[infailtration]

[ York follows North's gaze to see the wound on his friend, and hisses. ]

Let's go before one of us blacks out. Watch out, there are probably more of them outside.

[bothbarrels]

[ He nods and starts for the door, still with a hand around York's rib cage. ]

What the fuck caused that?

[ It's an idle thought, a rhetorical question. But the cupids had dived right for the two of them without hesitation, ignoring everyone else in the room. ]

[infailtration]

Stuff? I don't know, but they were definitely targeting us.

[ Which is. Really strange, and he doesn't know why it would be. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ There's more of the cupids in the hallways, but not too many, and they're all being fought by other people. North figures it's not too selfish to pass them on by as they bleed. ]

You don't suppose...?

[ He shakes his head. ]

Nah, never mind, it doesn't make any sense.

[infailtration]

[ York hustles, blood soaking his shirt quickly as they dodge past the fighting in the hall. ]

...what? Any idea's better than no idea.