ARRIVAL LOG 005

[larkers]

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

Comments

[mechanisch]

I — I don't know.

[ She does know, truthfully, having already been told about what happens when she so much as makes direct skin contact with any of the others who have been taken here, something that seems to make it impossible for them not to stand out more than they already do in spite of attempts to remain otherwise.

She frowns, but there's a hint of curiosity in it, and then she reaches out to repeat the motion with an impossibly light brush of her fingertips against his. She's not nearly as skilled at guarding her emotions, so they're there: some lingering adrenaline and a sense of satisfaction, recently settled nerves, and something deeper she fights to push down, something warmer. ]

[kgbs]

[ she reaches out to him and he knows with an absolute certainty that he should pull his hand away. he has no idea what he's going to feel from her (because that is her he's feeling, he's sure of it) and he doesn't know how to deal with what he thinks he might be feeling from her.

but, he doesn't pull his hand away and she touches him again. warmth bleeds into him and he shivers, a rare nervousness cropping up in him. it doesn't show in his expression but it's there. he swallows and his guard slips the tiniest bit, letting something like fondness slip through.

it's barely there, just a pulse, but it happens. ]

[mechanisch]

[ Amidst the swirling, pulsing lights of the ball two distinct sets of blue glowing from within them might not be as noticeable as it would be if they were in any other setting, but Gaby's still almost compelled to step closer to try and shield the evidence from any casual glances, anyone who might be able to identify them based on this thing that distinguishes them even further from those who are here of their own free will.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to feel from him; she doesn't even know what he'll be able to get a sense of from her. She's seen that flicker of something soft from him in fleeting moments before and this time it's equally brief, but no less sincere in its brevity.

Her eyes soften too, face tilting up to his, hand securing an even firmer hold — but then the light brightens further in her chest and it startles her enough to make her pull away again with a quiet intake of breath, still looking somewhat dazed. ]

[kgbs]

[ she's felt something and he knows it. he can see it on her face and read it in her stepping closer, trying to tighten her grip on his hand. but then she's moving away and he's taking a step back, breathing a little quicker than usual.

he blinks at her, unsure, uncertain. does he say something now? does he ask her what he was feeling from her? he does not want her to ask him that same question because he has no idea how he'll explain it.

he rubs his fingers together and finds himself speechless. he is typically quiet but not having words is different. ]

[mechanisch]

[ She doesn't need the words to know he's just as taken aback as she is by the exchange of emotions, feelings that don't belong to them being experienced just the same, as if they were theirs. It's not something she was prepared to deal with before and it's even less likely that she'll address it now.

She worries teeth against her lower lip, the jitter of nerves she'd felt already starting to die down and something even deeper than that (the tenderness) slipping through the fingers of her consciousness until it almost feels like she'd imagined it to begin with. ]

You felt it too?

[ She knows she doesn't have to ask, but she wants to. ]

[kgbs]

I --

[ it's a rare moment when he is actually speechless. this isn't his usual manner of just silently glaring, this is literally having no words to answer her with. all he can do is stare and it is both annoying and infuriating.

he wants to know what has just happened. a part of him wants to blame gaby but he knows that is foolish. it is this place, not her. ]

I don't know.

[mechanisch]

[ He must have felt something, if he's standing there looking as stunned as she feels, no emotions playing off his features to make his thoughts plainly known — but that's par for the course for him, the act of responding to something by not responding, by remaining thoroughly guarded, whether because he doesn't feel motivated to open up or he doesn't see the benefit in doing so.

After what she's just experienced from him, she isn't about to accept an uncertain answer, and she presses forward. ]

I know you did.

[ If she reaches out to touch him again it'll only confirm what she already knows to be true, even if she's a little afraid of it, of what will happen when everything they haven't said rises to the forefront of their emotions. ]

[kgbs]

Then, why did you ask?

[ he wants to get angry, he wants to be upset that she knows something that he had been desperately trying to keep to himself. he was perfectly fine with people thinking he was emotionless and while she might have known better, it was still not his choice to have them out there like that. ]

It's just -- [ he pauses, struggling for words. ] It's nothing.

[mechanisch]

It's not —

[ It's not nothing, she wants to say, not when the opposite is more than plain, but instead she sets her jaw, tilting her chin down to drop her gaze from his face and letting her eyes sweep around them. They don't appear to have attracted any unwanted attention, which is good, but they likely can't afford any more prolonged contact in a public place like this. Not when she's trying to keep a relatively low profile, and she imagines he's attempting similarly.

She curls her fingers in against her palm then, a small fist, before flexing them out again. ]

I will not make you do anything you do not want to.

[ It's unclear, now, if she's talking about the dancing or something else altogether. ]

[kgbs]

I did not think you would.

[ that's one thing he can say for certain. whatever she has felt and whatever he feels, neither would force something. for all they have worked together and been forced to be in close quarters with each other, they know little about each other.

and maybe a part of him wants to know but that same part of him is aware that he would have to open himself up in that instance too and that is...not easy. ]

I know that. [ his tone is still sharp but softer. ] I wouldn't make you do anything either.

[mechanisch]

Good.

[ She doesn't know why she's relieved to hear him say that, to voice the sentiment out loud, but it leaves her feeling a bit less uneasy than she has in the wake of their holding hands. There is the obvious sense of something that still lingers between them, that physical awareness of one another that neither of them has fully acknowledged, but it's not something she can afford to let herself get distracted by here.

He's not a distraction she can afford.

But just the same, they appear to have reached some kind of unspoken agreement, and the ground doesn't seem as unsteady as it could have been. She manages a grateful smile, a thin press of lips. ]

I should keep moving. Looking for anything. If I think it might be relevant, I will let you know.

[kgbs]

[ illya watches her for a few more moments before he nods once, stiffly. ]

Go, then.

[ it sounds like an order but he doesn't want her to take it as one. he cannot help that being gruff and brusque is his default state. ]

Be careful.