ARRIVAL LOG 006

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Night of September 3 to night of September 4
WHAT: The sixth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #006

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 streets 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, and false, colored light, illuminating the streets in the distance will first alert your senses of being somewhere else, combined with warm air that's only cooled with the setting of the sun. The nurse moves to stand at the back, checking each passenger over one by one just before they're helped out of the vehicle, quick and methodical. He 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. Once all the passengers are out, they climb back into the vehicle and close the doors. The engine powers up again, and then the bus is gone.

You're left alone in an alley, with no idea of where you are or why you've been brought here.

Around the corner of the alley, the streets are lined with bright orange, yellow, and red ball-shaped lights cluttered together overhead. Despite seeming rather tangible in nature, the balls themselves are merely well-designed projections. These lights illuminate the streets filled with people – some of which seem indifferent to the festivities, while others move in dense clusters toward a city square filled with countless trucks and tables. They disperse as they arrive – to trucks, to stations to have faces painted, to admire the wide array of sweet confections available. Numerous bits of signage announce various additional activities – but anyone new won't be able to interact, won't know what information is there.

◉ 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.

> LANTERN FESTIVAL

The message from El – no, wait. It's Gaby this time. Otherwise, it's 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 on announcement duty this time. Bus #6, for anyone who's counting. The location? Well, the heart of the lantern festival. A short walk from the safehouse.

Like many of these festivities, the New Amsterdam Lantern Festival is an annual event, dating back decades as a means of celebrating the mish-mash of culture that influences New Amsterdam as it's seen today. Sponsored by Polarized – a known subsidiary of Pulsar – the lights go bright just as the sun begins to set late in the evening, spreading over the city, acting as a dense layer of luminescence for 24 hours. Even in the daytime hours, the lights remain, and the technology seems to make them seem just as bright – which acts as a sign that the lights themselves are not natural, projected outward by numerous devices set up throughout the city.

Most of the events are concentrated in a district square that was once known as the city's Chinatown. At the heart of this festival is a large gathering where numerous food trucks and restaurants come out to advertise their wares. Specializing in desserts and little else, these businesses flood the street every year in hopes of bolstering their business because they can't partake in the restaurant promotion throughout September. The festival concludes with a competition, with each chef revealing their unique lantern festival dessert. These are often rather impressive in nature: cake pops strung together like a dragon, ice creams that make people's mouths look like they're glowing, and large cakes, shaped and designed to celebrate New Amsterdam's arts and festival scene. Many of this year's offerings will both celebrate the year before and offer a somber reminder of the lives lost in the monster attack just months ago. Smaller, sample sizes of these desserts will be available for purchase, which also grants people access to one vote for their favorite dessert.

As the lantern festival comes to a close almost a full day later, the lights clear a path to the river, where countless people will be stretched out and looking skyward for this year's fireworks. Loud, symphonic music featuring some of New Amsterdam's most popular composers will play throughout the area, synced up with the bombastic explosions themselves.

Most of the six newcomers will have hopefully been gathered long before the fireworks go off – but anyone else is free to enjoy them and the festivities leading up to that final conclusion. The festivities vary in nature, from a place for someone to claim a lantern of their own with a wish, to using UV paint to legally cover the ground in unique symbols and lights, to joining competitions where people place chess and checkers for a wider audience. Each of these activities is monetized, so don't expect anything to be for free.

> A VISUAL DETOUR

There will be several new and persistent additions along the most likely path to the festival from the safehouse: small, man-made shrines that have appeared just hours before the dense layer of lights settled over the city. Depending upon their makeup, these shrines vary in structure, size, and design, but have several unique, persistent similarities between them.

Some of the shrines are fully formed, with candles lying underneath them, and cloth blankets acting as an overhang for the art within. At the heart of each of these shrines is an image of a person, with a large, upside down triangle projecting from their chest – blue and noticeable – with their arms spread wide. Some of these triangles project from the chest as if a piece of a 3D pop-up structure, while others are simply a part of the image itself, a flat, smooth surface. Beneath them, there will be a scene from a familiar event for anyone who's been here for a while: a car flying into a monster's mouth, a person healing someone else, bright blue eyes and fingertips, showing the artist's personal interpretation in motion. Any of the cloth is covered in geometric symbols, intersecting circles and triangles, many of them in specific and particular patterns.

Other shrines are two dimensional in nature – painted, to be more specific, on the walls themselves – both hidden bits of scenery meant to blend in with the surroundings, or large and spread out, splashing wide arrays of colors and symbols. Whoever set up many of these artistic displays had a special paint and familiarity with the lantern festival lighting, as it draws special attention to the blue light that pours out of the people featured, whether it comes from their eyes, mouths, or the traditional chests. Silver and gold geometric symbols stretch around these images, framing the scene portrayed.

These additions aren't only located near the safehouse, but that's where they're concentrated for now. Within days, they'll be elsewhere: on walls in oft-frequented public restrooms, behind popular nightclubs and bars, and just about anywhere else – popping up and coming down as people tire of their presence – or are simply bothered that they're there at all.

> 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 arrival at the safehouse 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 SEPTEMBER 7. 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 September 7 (January 14). 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 January calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month.

As a reminder, AC for new characters accepted in December and January will be 10 comments across 2-4 threads, while current characters will need to provide the full AC of 20 comments across 2-4 threads. AC will be posted on January 20 and close on January 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

Loki | Open

[selfimage]

1. Shrines

[ the display of shrines and their accompany imagery brings Loki back to a place that he hadn't been since the day he arrived. while his body still retained the physical characteristics of the Aesir, he was still lacking some of the fundamentals that were linked to his own divinity. carefully he steps through the shrines for better looks at the images that are scrawled within, the eerie light of the blue glow that casts across the asphalt. the symbols are eye-catching, and keep his gaze lingering over the shapes and lines painted into the artwork.

it's an unnerving feeling that tugs at his insides. it's sacred but not, built on deeds that must feel powerful to the people of this world, if they had made such an impact. shrines were once erected to him and his brethren for worship, and now they were reduced. here they were non-existent, but this was a compromise that he hadn't been expecting. there's a pang inside of him that feels the loss—he misses the prayer. hearing them, and answering them. ]

I really shouldn't be surprised. [ he says to himself, or someone else, perhaps. ] But it does seem like they haven't seen anything like us before. How encouraging.

2. Safehouse

[ it's like routine now: when new people are found, brought to the safe house, and left there until their ID clears, Loki takes some time to make the rounds. he lingers at the edge of the safehouse, along the walls to get a good look at the faces of those who've just arrived. it looks like he's looking for something, or someone, for that matter.

unlike those who've arrived and are now in threadbare clothing, Loki's in a black-button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black pants and a pair of boots. he doesn't look quite like he belongs—and in a way he doesn't, he doesn't like the safehouse, nor does he like the obligation he feels to check it like this. ]

Ah, so the new blood is here, hm ...

while the look on his face is curious, he's still stuck on scheming expression 24/7. ]

3. Wildcard

[ hit me up! ]

oonnnneeee

[ofmyth]

[It's unsettling, but almost everything about this place has been unsettling in one way or another. It's something else that reminds him of what he is not and does not have.]

Surely they have their own gods. [Or... their own god-killer? Thor puts his concern to the side. It will do no good dwelling on what he cannot deal with in the moment.]

[selfimage]

[ there's a half-turn of his hips, and he eyes Thor as he approaches, bathed in the dim light of the laterns and the shrines. it's a distant feeling of discomfort, like recalling something from a past life. ]

Do you think they mean to make everyone among us into the divine?

[ there's a hint of smug distaste in his words. there are some heavy implications in that, considering everyone's non-discriminately been given new abilities. it doesn't equate to divinity. ]

[ofmyth]

The divine is not made.

[They both know it; both have experience of mortals meddling in the creation of gods. Thor says it regardless, and hears the empty space where such a proclamation would have been filled by a roll of thunder.

All that happens is that the sky grows a fraction darker, as if a cloud has passed in front of the sun. It's barely noticeable.]

[selfimage]

[ for a moment his gaze lingers at one of the shrines, beneath the shadow of the cloud that Thor manifests (well, at least some things stay the same). ]

No, but this world is starved. [ it comes out quietly. ] They may latch on to anything.

[ofmyth]

[Thor does not want to be latched onto, to be tied down into something he is not. As himself he would have done what he could to help these people, but limited as he is... those he can help are fewer.]

Aye, but do the people seek out a focus to worship of their own volition, or are they being pushed that way by other forces?

[selfimage]

[ they're left at a loss for what they once were, and even if Thor has more experience in being human than Loki does, it still feels like they've been dealt a bad hand. ]

Isn't that the question? It looks as if these were all created by the people. They're all similiar.

[ and he's seen something like this before. not exactly the same, but. ]

[ofmyth]

Which people. [It's not really a question, not one he expects an answer to, just something to say as he mulls over the situation.]

I do not wish to be worshiped as a god while I am not one.

safehouse;

[reneger]

( loki sticks out like a sore thumb; dark colors and bright eyes and jason--close to matches. dark jacket embroidered with noisy words, dark cargo pants, combat boots. a dark tank under the jacket; hell, he couldn't get any darker if he tried, realistically. he's careful with his steps as he approaches loki this time, too; keeps them quiet, watches where he lets feet land as he approaches him from the side, murmurs a soft: )

They're not all unfamiliar, either. ( the words are telling, but so is the hard press of jason's lips, the way the skin pinches between brows. ) There's gonna be a huge shitstorm.

[selfimage]

[ as Jason falls in step with him, he keeps walking like they have direction—just two buddies dressed in dark clothes going for a stroll. ]

That sounds messy—let me guess. Is it a new arrival?

[ Loki leads him back to the store room, which is the only place where they may get some privacy without being completely and utterly suspicious, considering their demeanors. ]

[reneger]

( loki continues to move and jason follows suit, keeps pace easily. he's gotten loki's gait down by now, shifting from his own to matching the other's doesn't take but a moment. fingers tuck into the belt loops on pants before he's pressing lips together, making a pop sound when they part. )

Oh, yeah. ( bruce wants to be involved, and that's probably the best way for them to go. pretend they don't know him at all in public, figure--something out elsewhere. damian's already formed an opinion, given jason a choice. it's. difficult. all of this is. ) Little D's number one public enemy of choice.

[selfimage]

[ the door slides shut behind them, and Loki turns to lean against it. it's dimly lit, rows of supplies neatly stacked on the shelves. it's a little claustrophobic, but most places in New Amsterdam are. ]

Let me guess, is it the second infamous letter in the alphabet?

[reneger]

( if they're in a closet they may as well make it look good. a forearm rests against the wall above loki's shoulder, and he leans his weight into it. doesn't lean in too much closer, however. )

Bingo. But not mine or his, someone--different.

[selfimage]

[ while he doesn't exactly take a step or a shift, he does lean closer, filling a little bit of space between them, but he doesn't touch. his arms cross against his chest, and he worries his lower lip. ]

Three similar enough but different universes and three Bs. The resonance is strong. [ somewhat to himself, and partially to Jason. his eyes draw up at him. ] Have they met, yet? Or is this explosion impending?

1/4, prompt 1, hello i couldn't resist

[fessus]

[ The shrines are beautiful, eye-catching even. Bits and pieces of life in New Amsterdam have managed to remind him of his home but always slightly off, colors tinged from neon instead of the soft warm glow of magic, or architecture that features a sharp corner in the wrong place but could otherwise by an imitation of something from Eos.

These are just one more example, and it's that that catches his eye. He hears a voice commenting on them all too near him, however, and lifts his head. ]

Hah? Oh. [ --it does seem like they haven't seen anything like us before. How encouraging.

Noctis pauses, idly nodding once or twice as if in sage agreement. ]

2/4

[fessus]

3/4

[fessus]

4/4

[fessus]

... ahh, no, I have no idea what you're talking about...

[ GIVES UP ]

[selfimage]

[ ...

...

... ]

[selfimage]

[ there's a roll of his head as he looks over back at Noctis. they stand among the shrines in an eerie glow.

and Loki's voice gets flat. ]

You could have just humored me.

1/2

[fessus]

[ ... ]

2/2

[fessus]

[ uggggh ]

Fine, say it again; I'll do it this time. [ Is he serious? Yes, yes, he is. ]

[selfimage]

[ the mood is never going to be recaptured, Noctis. never, ever, ever. he sighs, rather dramatically, ending it with a little puff of exaggerated irritation. with one dark nailed hand, he makes a grand gesture toward the words that are coming out of his mouth.

then, he clears his voice.

take 2. ]

I really shouldn't be surprised—[ whatever. ]—but it does seem like they haven't seen anything like us before, etcetera etcetera.

[ now he stares dead at Noctis like he's expecting something. ]

[fessus]

[ Wait. Just wait for it.

Keep waiting.

His brows lift though he remains dead-eyed and apathetic, hands on his hips. ]

Wow. Yeah, you're right. That's pretty crazy. Wonder why.

[selfimage]

For running through the whole thing over again, you think you'd be able to hit a stroke of inspiration. That was terrible.

[ he waves a hand in dismissal, leaning over rather dramatically to investigate one of the shrines in front of him. there's a non-descript blue person in the center holding a triangle to its chest. ]