meadowlarklogs | ARRIVAL LOG 005

ARRIVAL LOG 005

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Night of August 23 (through to August 30th)
WHAT: The fifth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #005

Awareness comes to you in blurred snatches, cloudy fragments of sound and light, color, sensation. Hazy and difficult to grasp on to, but slowly aligning into focus. A series of regular, rhythmic beeps. A medicinal, astringent smell. The sensation of movement, a low hum and accompanying vibration under you. Your eyes are heavy, hard to keep open, but in the glimpses between slow, dark blinks you see four people in black body armor seated opposite you, as well as a man in dark gray scrubs.

You realize there are others next to you. All of you in white scrubs, hair recently cut but at various stages of growth, restrained by straps across your chests, arms, feet, holding you to the bench under you. To your left, an armored interior door, two more people visible, the movement of dark streets and neon windows passing through a windshield. You try to open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your tongue is coated in tar, and you manage nothing more than an empty parting of lips.

The vehicle stops. The guard opposite you stands and comes to unbuckle you from the bench, helping you to your feet. Your limbs feel wooden and heavy, slow to move. One guard opens the back of the vehicle: beyond it, a chamber only dimly lit by strips of light along the floor. The nurse moves to stand at the back of the vehicle, checking each passenger over one by one just before they're helped out of the vehicle, quick and methodical. She doesn't climb out after you, moving to sit as the last passenger is unloaded.

The guards keep their heads down. Their actions are quick, firm, but not entirely unkind. Under your feet, you can feel the thrum of heavy bass vibrating through the floor. You see nearby that there is another bus, another load of passengers being helped out, lined up much like you are. Once you're all in place, the guards move down the line, pulling dark hoods over each passenger's head. Your arm is lifted, placed on the shoulder of the passenger in front of you in line. "Hold on," says one of the guards. "Stay quiet. Keep moving until I say stop." There is no will in you to fight the orders.

How far you walk is hard to determine. Counting steps is difficult, and any concept of time passing stretches between the sound of footfalls and breathing - soon overshadowed by the music. Growing louder, closer, the heavy bassline begins to reverberate through the air around you, amplified by the acoustics of the place. Melody and vocals become audible, the chatter of a crowd. Finally, you stop, and the hoods are pulled off, following down the line as the guards walk back. You turn to look after them, but they quickly disappear into the darkness of the tunnel behind you.

The door in front of you swings open, the full weight of the music washing out. A tall woman with sharp, geometric patterns of ink tattooed across her skin smiles at you with sharp teeth, glowing luminescent in the UV lighting above her. "First timers?" she asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. "Don't worry, those costumes are great. Come on, come in." As you move to comply, she takes each of your hands, stamping a twisting design on the back, shining bright in the UV light.

"Welcome," she says, as she ushers you out of the lobby and into the noise and crowd beyond. "To the Insomniacs' Ball."

◉ Though entirely capable of independent action and thought, new characters will find themselves completely, unquestioningly compliant to any verbal statement which could be taken as a command or request.

> THE INSOMNIACS' BALL

The message from El comes the same as previous: insistent, not waiting for any active attempt to open it. Scrolling within your vision as if being written while you're reading it.

I'm not saying bus #5 got past me, but our favorite mysterious human traffickers have gone seriously sneaky this time around. And I'm not saying I can't help you get to where you need to be, but I can't. This one needs legwork, because you're going to have to land invites to the Insomniacs' Ball.

The Insomniacs' Ball is an open secret. A New Amsterdam urban myth, disbelieved by many and desired for by even more. A week long party held every year as the working schedule changes, as the city struggles between the oppressive heat and the shifting of sleep cycles. Whether you'd prefer to be asleep at night or day, the ball doesn't care - a rolling, 24/7 event that continues until it disappears, as quickly as it arrived.

Its location is a secret. Existence frowned upon, possibly even shut down by the authorities - dancing until you fall down is hardly advisable while water rationing is in place. Yet every year the rumors spin again, the whispers, clues and tastes and photos shared on social media which vanish before anyone can really be sure what they saw.

Whoever puts the ball together is as good at keeping their head down as Morningstar - and most likely greases more wheels, rather than trying to be a wrench in the machine. Either way, all El can do is point you to the same paths anyone else hungry for an invite is taking.

THE PUZZLE
Emerging on social media like proverbial white rabbits, clues in the form of bizarre symbols, phrases or riddles have appeared, hidden in images or tucked in VR simulations. Solving them isn't for the impatient. Some take more work than others, a knowledge of numbers or pattern recognition, or ancient cultural references. The answers come as new clues, pointing to locations in the city, to other VR simulations, to figures waiting in cafes or particular enemies in your favorite VR video game. A treasure hunt for the modern age, as each step is completed the participants are whittled down, but for anyone who reaches the end, the prize of an invite to one of the most mysterious pieces of New Amsterdam life is worth all of the work to get there.

THE DARE
The challenges start small. Stand up and sing in a crowded restaurant. Take a selfie at the UNA's front door. Eat a live scorpion. Soon it escalates, taking even the most jaded of adrenaline junkies on a rollercoaster of illegal and death-defying stunts. Joyriding a notorious gangster's hoverbike. Climbing a construction beam between two of the tallest buildings in the city. Standing in central square and declaring yourself to be a Morningstar operative. The risks climb higher and higher, and for some the stakes are too much. Others hold their nerve, eyes set firmly on the goal, the victory of holding an invite in their hands.

THE BOON
And then there are those who make no effort at all. Passed to them by the hands of lady luck, their invites arrive in their pockets, slid under their doorframes or hidden under a glass at work. Bartenders open up crates of stock and find a wedge of them tucked in amongst the packaging; bike couriers arrive at delivery destinations only to find a parcel waiting there for them. Whether targeted or purely a matter of chance, many attendants at the Insomniacs' Ball will have had the opportunity simply fall in their lap - and some may not recognize what they've received at all.

However you've managed to get your hands on an invite, the directions on the back are the same - leading you deep down into the city's underground, past some of the darker corners and into some even darker ones. A rusted, disused door to an abandoned maintenance area wouldn't look like the place, but the intricate geometric design painted silvery and barely visible across the surface matches the invite you hold, and you know you've found the entrance to wonderland.

Behind the door, lies a twisting network of tunnels and rooms built into natural caves, ultimately abandoned by the city when its insides proved too difficult to navigate. Now, for a short time, it's home to a carnival of revelry. Strobing neon lights illuminate snatches and glimpses of the crowd, glowing in pools of UV: a dense mass of people from all over the city, young and old, music and dancing flowing from chamber to chamber, clashing and mixing between. Extravagant, outrageous costumes mingle with simple streetwear, or with no-wear at all. People hand out masks, drinks, substances which it may not be advisable to consume. Sealed bottles of water seem to appear from nowhere, passed among the people, their source and seeming escape from the rationing in the city far above going unquestioned.

Smaller chambers offer some respite for those who need to take a minute, catch their breath, or want a quiet corner to talk with a new friend. Other chambers contain more hedonistic displays, with most participants always willing to accept another into their number. No one seems to be in any rush - there's roughly a week to soak in all the delights, and you can even come and go as you please, the UV pattern now stamped on your hand allowing access back through the various doors, if you can find your way back to one.

But you're here for a different purpose, and whether it took you hours or days to find your way here, you know that the party will end eventually - and anything more unusual which may be hiding inside will be revealed.

◉ The Insomniacs' Ball and the related methods of gaining an invite will last for one week, from August 23-30. New characters can be retrieved at any time during this, or can find their own way out and be discovered on the streets - just please be advised that they will not be able to survive in New Amsterdam without first spending time in the Morningstar safehouse and having their ID set up.

◉ We will not be dictating set pieces of the ARG puzzle or challenges - these are left to player discretion as to what your character would have realistically managed to solve or complete!

◉ The invite themselves are business card sized pieces of metal with an intricate geometric patterns etched on one side, and an address on the other. The address leads to a quick series of clues and locations which will take characters to the door as described.

◉ The same geometric design will be present throughout the ball, worn by some of the guests and doorpeople, and even carved into the walls of some of the caves.

◉ While in the ball, there will be rumors and whispers circulating about the owner of the ball being in attendance, and that particularly impressive guests may earn some special reward - or just guarantee an invite again next year.

> THE SAFEHOUSE

Access to the safehouse is a hatch hidden behind stacks of empty storage shelves in the back of an abandoned supermarket in an outer district of the city. The immediate area is similarly abandoned, empty stores, flanked by several blocks of dive bars and clubs which cater to more niche tastes. A place where people can come and go unseen, or, if seen, not spoken of. A dark haired woman called Gaby is ready to greet the new arrivals and get them settled in, brusque and no-nonsense – she'll be open for in depth questions later, but will advise everyone to ask the people who brought them in for the beginning bits of information.

◉ The safe house is a large open space, filled with rows of basic cots set up to sleep a large amount of people. Basic, but outfitted with everything necessary for daily life. A few doors lead to back rooms for storage, medical care and a large communal bathroom, and past the long rows of cots there is a communal kitchen, fully stocked, and an eating area. Privacy is at a minimum.

◉ New characters will be asked to pick their beds, and provided with a change of (second-hand, mismatched and somewhat threadbare) clothes and basic toiletries.

◉ While there were previously also NPC occupants of the safehouse, natives to New Amsterdam, these people have now been moved on to somewhere safer. A few of their belongings remain, discarded or accidentally abandoned.

◉ Gaby will make it clear to all new arrivals that if they have any requests or queries, they should contact her or El.

◉ The drugs making new characters compliant will remain in their systems for a few hours after their being dropped off by the guards before finally beginning to fade. They will be gone entirely after a night's rest. In the meantime, they may want to be careful of what others say to them.

◉ New characters will be given rudimentary access to the network on arrival in the safehouse, but will not have their ID set up yet. They will be able to make posts and replies, but their messages will be anonymous and they do not have inboxes yet.

◉ New characters will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until FOUR DAYS AFTER THEIR ARRIVAL AT THE SAFEHOUSE. These 4 days are for them to adjust, learn about the world they've arrived in from their fellows, and for El to speak with them and work on setting up their IDs.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to Meadowlark, newbies! You're now free to post to the network and logs comms. To reiterate, your characters will have no IDs or inboxes, nor be allowed out of the safehouse until they have been there for four days. At that point it's expected they'll have gotten a good idea of their new situation from their fellow characters, and will have discussed their background and job potentials with El in order for their false IDs to be set up.

If you have any questions or ideas about how you'd like to get your character involved in the world, or if they'd like to join Morningstar, please head over to the plot engagement post and drop us a comment! For questions specific to this log, there is a thread below.

Please check out our December calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month.

As a reminder, AC this month will be a check-in only. AC will be posted on December 20 and close on December 27. If you do not reply to AC, you will be considered idled and dropped from the game. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Getting Ignis out of here had been priority one, and to that end? Leaving his side had been difficult. But this one's different.

In the past people had been dropped off, more or less helpless and left to their own devices, in some kind of semi-public area. This? Well, while he expects that a number of his comrades in Morningstar are not only a little sharper on the uptake than he is -- he knows his weaknesses -- but also almost as tenacious, it still doesn't excuse him in his own mind from his responsibility. He has access to the ball when others might not, and thus access to help.

So he's returning sooner than he wanted, admittedly, but now that he has a little more knowledge of the layout he's able to scour the area much more quickly. On the lookout for white scrubs-- and sure enough, there's one figure that's particularly difficult to miss given his imposing size. Noctis exhales as he weaves his way through the crowd, doing his best to protect a still sling-bound left arm from being overly jostled as he squints away from the occasional flashing light. ]

Hey! [ He raises his voice, suddenly, hand coming to rest firmly on this stranger's shoulder to get his attention. ] Glad I finally found you, I was looking everywhere! Did you forget you've got work in a few hours?

[ Achilles had met Noctis before.

Within COST, the two had been comrades and, at one point, Master and Servant. That boy had been someone Achilles had decided to protect and devote himself to, quickly becoming attached after their contract was completed. They hadn't even been a pair long, before the boy had been taken by the enemy and Achilles was essentially powerless to do anything about it. He had tried getting to him by force, by bargaining -- all to no avail.

He can't even remember the last time he'd seen him. Between then and now, Achilles had wondered how he would face Noctis after failing to rescue him. If he had known he would be running into him by chance tonight, he would have taken time to prepare instead of flirting and picking fights. How irresponsible, he is.

Still, maybe he should be grateful that Noctis didn't catch him in the act of doing something he wouldn't approve of.

The effects of the drugs have not worn off, and he's not any more lucid than he had been when he first stepped off the bus that brought him here. He gawks after the other man when he turns to meet his gaze, partly disbelieving his own eyes. Against the rapid flashing of the lights, maybe they were playing tricks on him.

But there's no mistaking that voice, is there? He should know it without a doubt, shouldn't he? They hadn't known each other long, but he had come to recognize its distinction after pestering the poor guy however many times. ]

Master...?

[ Noctis blends in far better now than he had on his first trip into the ball, prepared this time around with admittedly ridiculous pants and with flecks of vibrant paint all over an otherwise black shirt. It helps the illusion a little, but he's convinced that the man he's faced with is already committing to his chosen character with a much greater intensity than Noctis himself is. "Master"?

Either that or the drugs in his system have him confused as to who Noctis is and he's mistaking him for someone else he knows. Which is worse?

His hand squeezes gently as blue eyes lower, momentarily unsure of himself with lights flashing bright around them. ]

I-- Look, let's just get you out of here, okay? I brought-- [ His hand pulls back to tug a jacket off of his shoulder where he's haphazardly draped it, quickly realizing that Achilles is far too big to wear it. So much for blending in. ]

You can hold this, okay? [ It's something. ]

[ He isn’t worried about blending in, and if Noctis knew Achilles he’d probably expect that coming from Achilles.

But given that he doesn’t know him, he tries and Achilles doesn’t refuse his offer, but he doesn’t take it right away either.

He throws his arms around the other man without a warning, pulling him in for a tight, suffocating bear hug. There’s no use being wary, he’s too overcome by relief to dissuade himself from celebrating this reunion. ]

Master! It’s you!

[ Arms encircle him right before he can get out a rushed "no, no--" and he's drawn in close, squeezed bruisingly tight in a way that he could normally shrug off but his arm... ]

Hey, yeah, okay! Good to see you too, now let go! [ Fully flustered and normally not one to resort to commands with the newcomers, Noctis gives into his desperation. This? Is a new experience he will never forget. ]

[ As much as he doesn’t want to let go, he has to, and he would have even if he weren’t under the effects of the drugs.

Once he removes himself, he notices the arm in the sling - realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention earlier. Uh oh. ]

You’re hurt!? What the hell happened to you?

[ He reaches for his opposite arm, holding onto his elbow to keep him close. He will tug and steer, moving Noctis out of the way from drunkards stumbling by and placing him in such a way that Achilles can shield him away from the crowd with his broader frame. ]

Tell me.

Edited 2018-12-18 16:34 (UTC)

[ He hears laughter on either side of them and the ghost of a touch on his back before Achilles is suddenly whisking him away, trying not to think about the last squeeze to his thigh and where that might've come from. He hates this place, hates this whole event. Crowds are already not his idea of a good time. ]

Hey, can we forget about that right now?

We need to get out of here, alright? Then we can talk about what's going on and-- and who you think I am, because I think you have your wires crossed. Let's go, okay?

[ He’s not sure what he could possibly mean by that.

His confusion is short-lived, however, as Noctis commands him with a simple direction. Achilles has no choice but to follow, and he would have even he did.

And being hyper aware of the situation, now, he definitely notices someone copping a feel... and he’s quick to snatch that person’s wrist and yank them close so he can shout in their face. ]

Watch where you’re touching! [ Why is he now a possessive boyfriend trope.

He’s been agitated all night, and having someone disrespect his Master sets his simmering anger to a hard boil. Fortunately, instead of breaking this guy’s arm, he gives him a hard shove instead. ]

[ Noctis came here with one goal in mind: save any of the newcomers that require it. He's here to guide whoever looks lost and shepherd them out, Achilles included, but now here he is yelling at and assaulting a complete stranger. Okay, perhaps he's not the helpless damsel in distress that a lot of the others had been. ]

Hah? Whoa, knock it off--! [ His arm stretches out in front of Achilles's chest suddenly, trying to block him off from any potential further movements against the other man. ]

No, we're not doing that. No. [ Repetition to get his point across before he's suddenly grabbing for his forearm, tugging him further through the crowd of people before they're forced to deal with any further consequences. This is a nightmare... ]

What's your name?

[ He isn’t surprised when Noctis decides to butt in, stepping between him and the stranger. For once, Achilles eases up, compelled by Noctis’ words. He grunts softly, baring a bit of his teeth as he’s chided and refusing to look him in the eye. Yeah, he’s petulant.

Once the commotion settles down, shortly after the guy gets up from the ground and flips Achilles the bird, before leaving the area, Noctis and Achilles turn to each other.

The question catches him off-guard, and it reflects in his expression as his frown shifts. ]

What? You’ve forgotten my name? [ And... then he’s piecing things together. ] Do you remember me, Noctis?

I--

[ A blast of bass makes him wince as another song starts up, shoulders actually lifting in his usual withdrawn mannerisms to highlight just how uncomfortable this place makes him. Ugh. ]

I told you, I'm not-- Wait, you know my name? [ How... ]

You're... from the future? Look, I don't have all my memories of everything yet; I already know someone people that are from further along than I am. I know it sounds weird but I'm trying to work with it too.

[ Oh.

It doesn't make sense at first. Still drugged and a little dazed, it takes him a bit to understand the meaning of the other man's words. The music continues to blare, filling in the gap of silence that falls between them. ]

I could be. [ Finally, he speaks. ]

But it's more likely that I knew a different version of you, from another universe. It's happened before.

[ Whatever mess different timelines weave, this place is where all of knots meet in some hideous tangle and it's making his head pound even harder than the music is. Lights hit blue eyes and he flinches, back to ushering him through the crowd with a turn of his head to call over his shoulder. ]

Then I hope I left a good enough impression for you to trust me! I'm here to help you!

[ Ugh... There he goes. His hopelessly pure and caring Master, too trusting for his own good. If Achilles had been an enemy, he'd be totally vulnerable.

If only he could be angry about it. His teacher, Chiron, had seen similar qualities in his pupil, recognizing them as flaws that needed to be corrected. In Noctis, though, he just sees it as a reason to love him even more and protect him.

He's determined to not mess this up. Even if this Noctis couldn't remember him, he would fulfill his duties all the same.

Though his foot is still injured, he keeps up with the boy, light on his toes despite his impressive size. He weaves through the bodies without knocking anyone over, but there are plenty of times where his shoulder bumps into another, sending them staggering. ]

Noctis! Stay on my right side. [ He reaches for the back of his shirt, grabbing a fistful so he can lug him back and place him strategically at his side, so that his left arm isn't exposed to the crowd. ]

Where are you taking me? Tell me why you're hurt.

[ Achilles dodges bodies to keep up with him and shoulder-checks partiers when he can't, which is enough to inspire Noctis to slow down and reclaim his hold on his forearm--

Or rather, he's about to, right up until his shirt is suddenly stretched with a tight grip and hard pull back. ]

Hah? O-oi! You're gonna' rip it...

[ His exhale is heavy, brow furrowed at the delay. ] I'm taking you somewhere safe, that's where. A place you can rest and get all this out of your system... and I'm hurt because I got shot, which happened weeks ago and isn't really the main thing right now.

[ He's not going to rip it, Noctis. But he does relent a little, dropping his hand to his opposite (and good) shoulder to steer him that way instead. ]

What? Who shot you? [ Uh, that is the main thing???

There isn't much emotion reflected in his tone. He has to raise his voice to overpower the music, but he doesn't sound like he's about to snap. ]

Someone who wouldn't do it normally so I'm not gonna' say more than that, okay?

[ There's more force to this tone, now, unwilling to implicate Connor on the best of days but now he's being railroaded by a man who's supposed to be vulnerable and that he's supposed to be saving. Why this. ]

If you knew me before then you know I can handle it. [ He's never been so glad to escape from a crowd as he is now, slipping free near the exit and the bouncer that barely gives them both a second glance... lucky. ]

[ Truthfully, they hadn't known each other well yet when they'd contracted, but Achilles did have the impression that Noctis was very much capable. After all, if he could sustain Achilles' power, he'd have to be strong himself.

But he was so hopelessly soft that Achilles can't help but worry. He stops himself from snapping.

It will be easier to talk now that they're out of the caves, and for the first time in hours, Achilles takes a deep breath of fresh air. He releases his hold on the other man, though he sticks close. ]

Whether you can or not, I'm the one - I was supposed to protect you. [ His voice carries desperation, and emotions that had been suppressed for some time now begin to seep through the surface.

He never had the chance to apologize to Noctis. And this one doesn't even what had happened or what he failed to do. ]

[ There's something about the way he says that and the words he chooses, the way he hesitates but continues on anyway. Something about it... that makes Noctis feel conflicted. It's obvious that Achilles has something important to say if he's pushing for it in spite of his circumstances and he's not the person he needs to say it to most -- he's a stand-in for someone else with more memories.

Noctis too fills his lungs with fresher air, exhaling in a quiet sigh that's always a little too world-weary for someone his age. ]

Yeah? Well, guess we're flipping the script a little, because right now I'm gonna' look out for you. Both of us are doing okay right now so we've got this.

Stick close to me, okay? [ Because he's not staying still long. ]

[ Noctis is level-headed. Achilles should have expected such a response from him, even if he is different from the Noctis he knew. It reinforces that he is the same man, still.

Biting back a kneejerk plea, he relents, bowing his head slightly as he follows. ]

Will you let me take a look? Later...

[ ... honestly? It's a little weird to get used to but it's not an over-the-top ask; he can give him that much, right? ]

Yeah, I guess so, but it's not like it's gonna' be very interesting...

More importantly you still haven't even told me your name. What am I supposed to call you?

I wanna see how you're healing. [ He might not look it, but he knows a fair bit about medicine and the human body. ]

It's Achilles. My name is Achilles. [ And he knows that telling him who his mother and father is won't mean anything to him, but for good measure: ] Son of the hero Peleus, and the goddess Thetis.

[ He seems eager, looking down at him with an earnest, wide-eyed look like he's expecting him to recognize the foreign names. ]

[ That gets him to relent, never overly eager to put himself up for any kind of examination but it's far better than the approach so many others have stuck with -- Achilles wants to ensure he's fine rather than continuing his inquisition into who was behind it, which is an approach Noctis vastly prefers. ]

"Achilles"? [ Thank goodness he said it twice so Noctis could get it right. ]

Achilles, Peleus, Thetis... [ He repeats all three names quietly to himself, committing them to memory. ] Ah, wait, so--

One of your parents was a goddess?

[ He thought that'd get his attention. He smiles, obviously pleased with himself. ]

That's right. [ He affirms with a nod, and though he should be surveying his surroundings, he can't take his eyes off of the other man. Having been unable to see him for so long, he's relishing the opportunity to reinforce memories of his boyish, handsome face. ]

She's an immortal. My father, however, was mortal. [ The implication that he is long dead is there. ]

You and I aren't from the same world, so you don't recognize my name. I am a hero of legend.

[ To explain their relationship, he figures he has to start from the beginning. Sorry, Noctis. ]

[ Even in the rougher parts of the city that they're currently cutting through -- because of course this "secret" ball couldn't be held somewhere a little more reputable -- Noctis notices that Achilles's presence is earning them a wider berth than he'd had on his own. It's comforting in its own way, even if he doesn't doubt his own prowess when it comes to a possible altercation. ]

Hmm...

So you're saying if I wasn't from Eos, I'd know all about you? Pretty big claim, but I guess that's what most gods are like. [ A pause. ]

Is that what you are? "Hero of legend" already sounds like a big deal on its own.

i make my own rules

how dare you

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