meadowlarklogs | ARRIVAL LOG 006

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ARRIVAL LOG 006

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

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[ 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?

( loki gets it. doesn't lean in to touch and jason--appreciates that, too. doesn't feel very touchy at all, even if he's leaning into his space. there's the click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, a low hum, )

I've been given an ultimatum, they've already collided. D's promised not to try and kill him, so that's--something. ( not great, but a start. ) He's older, by a bit. Hell, darker.

[ the body language isn't hard to read, he figures that Jason wants a little bit of presence rather than direct contact. Loki's no still navigating the finer details of affection, but this is something he can definitely do. ]

It buys time.

[ time may lead elsewhere, and that is definitely something. ]

Though the rest bodes ... difficult. What kind of ultimatum?

[ Jason's family is almost as crazy as his, and that's saying something for mortals. ]

It's B, or it's D. Not both. ( he gets it. really, jason does. go back a few years and he would have given everyone the same choice: bruce or jason, but he sure as hell wouldn't spend time with someone playing both sides. lips press together, teeth digging in enough for the color to drain from them before he's taking another breath in, shoulders raising slow from the effort. ) Then decided he already knew my choice and told me to fuck off.

( jason hates how similar they are, sometimes. )

Bishop's got eyes on him, but I doubt he'll stay there long either.

[ if it's one thing about Damian, it's that he's always been reactive. Loki picked that up when he met him. Jason had easily manipulated him to come after him with a few choice words, so this ultimatum doesn't surprise him. siblings were always difficult, and always hurting one another.

he had said that he had trusted Jason, and now this. ah, well ... ]

You said this isn't the same person as the one he may remember—nor does he seem like the same someone you remember, either. Yet he's already decided the way that this is going to go, and it's too early to tell. [ he sounds like he's thinking. ] You said you trust your instinct. What are your impressions of him? This not-your-universe, and not-his-universe B?

[ they need to go back to Damian, but Loki wants to hear what Jason thinks, first. ]

Ah, Lo. ( it's soft, fondness bleeding into his tone despite himself. ) I trust my instincts, but B is notoriously hard to get a read on. This one isn't any different.

( reactions muted, short sentences. even in anger, bruce didn't raise his voice. didn't snap. )

I died. Wasn't around for the aftermath but I heard bits and pieces of it after, how fucked B was without someone around to help lighten the mood. This one never picked up our third from what he'd said. Never had another sidekick after I was gone. He's--fine. I trust him. Enough.

[ Loki keeps his eyes up on him, listening, but still thoughtful.

there are pieces suddenly sliding into place: Jason and his siblings, this B fellow, and the nature of all of their relationships. it's making sense, and it's fairly close to Loki's understanding. ]

A precarious position. His lack of company bodes ill, if it's what manages to keep his head above deep water. [ there's a puff of air, a little sigh between them. ] And Hafid not taking the arrival well.

Is there an evil B?

[ he has an evil self—this is obviously the most logical next question. ]

( jason's weight shifts from one heel to the other. leans forward, more into loki's space but without touching him. purses lips as he considers how he wants to respond, exactly. )

There're a series of events that have happened in his time that led to him becoming exactly the man he is. ( is a good way to start. ) We've--faced some weird shit back home. Including fucked up versions of him. But they were a lot more obvious; B's strong enough, smart enough that hiding's unnecessary. Taking him down a peg's near impossible, if he wanted to be a fucked up asshole and destroy everything in his path, he could manage it fresh off the bus without any issue.

But I moved in close and his fucking heartbeat skyrocketed. He was pissed at the idea of someone faking my being alive. ( it was cute. been a while since jason could get that kind of reaction out of someone. ) He cares. That's not faked, and if he does give a shit--that's significantly better than Hafid's version.

[ he keeps steady, not pushing away or pulling him in. there's space in the freedom of making choices, and Jason's been stripped of enough for Loki to make any demands of him, physical, mental or emotional. there's a few problems to solve, some chaotic bursts, but nothing that can't be handled, even if it stings. ]

So, not evil then. [ even if he was, it was just taking a different avenue. ] Well, a bit of good news. [ imagine that sentence with half an exclamation mark. ] Ah ... then it's Hafid's perceived threat of his presence, rather than the actual threat of his presence, and the space in between.

[ in all honesty—he can understand. if any alternative version of an evil self that really-wasn't-that-evil arrived, he'd be upset. he'd react. if family was involved, he might hurt them, but here he is standing outside of the issue, looking in. it's far different. ]

It turns into a matter of concern of how far his reaction may carry him.

Mm. ( a quiet hum, half an agreement. bruce wayne in every rendition is a problem for jason, as far as he's concerned. but being a problem doesn't mean he's downright--bad. no, bruce causes trouble because his moral code doesn't quite match up to jason's own, because he pushes for his own sense of justice. he doubts one who lets jason lean on him like that, reacts so strongly to his presence would be a threat to them.

how far damian is going to push it is an entirely different thing: he has absolutely no doubts that, as soon as the perceived threat turns into even a semblance of one, damian will be using all the strength and knowledge he's got to tear down bruce. to destroy him, end him. that's a problem he'll have to figure out how to deal with later. )

I know you're going to get involved in shit, ( loki, god of mischief and all. ) that you've got enough information to pick him out of the few newbies we've got rummaging around, most likely. And even if you didn't, you'd figure it out. You're clever. So a word of advice: keep any associations to me under wraps.

( because jason todd tends to cause problems. )

I've never been a family favorite.

[ Damian is reactive—ready to go off at a moments notice. Loki has no doubts that it'll turn out badly, and that Jason will somehow be the buffer.

ah, Jason knows him too well. ]

As you will—[ a sly little smile curls just at the edges of his lips in good faith. ]—I'll be discreet. I've always found the company of the blacksheep of the family more preferable, anyway.

[ there's a little tilt of his head. ]

Though I'm a bit disappointed, it seems like Hafid may take over your position as instigator. You're slacking.

There's a pretty big difference between me'n Hafid.

( weight finally leaning away from loki; none of this is secret, there's no need to press in so close. though he doesn't like this topic any more than he liked the last one, and it shows in the tight press of his lips. )

It's taken be a bit to get it down, but I know where my strengths and weaknesses lie. Where I need to pull back and where I don't. ( where his allegiances lie, who he needs to fight back with and who to just bow down to. ) Hafid is all sharp angles, when shit gets pulled too tight, he fights against it instead of giving himself time to adjust. This shit included.

[ the focus keeps on Jason, bright eyes following along with him. once he opens up the space between them, Loki moves to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear, which is swept to the side instead of parted in the middle. ]

He clings very tightly to the metaphorical bars. [ it's said with a little sigh. ] I'm certain situations that lend to a loss of control don't seem his forte. [ he's the god of chaos, he's noticed, even if they've only met a handful of times, Damian isn't exactly quiet on the network. ]

He's not my family, and you know him well, so I'll not lend you anything you don't request of me. [ there's a pause, and his brows knit together and his shoulders lean back against the wall. ] There is some concern, though, if someone finds means of hitting those buttons just right.

[ that he could be easily manipulated if someone figured out how. ]

I know. ( but fuck, jason has never appreciated loki as much as he does in this moment: giving jason space to handle shit while acknowledging that it's. blowing out of proportions a little. not offering shit jason doesn't want to deal with, or forcing his way in.

a gloved hand reaches forward, fingers curling behind loki's hair and pushing strands of hair back with it. the first bit of actual contact he's initiated--mid all of this bullshit. it's not skin-to-skin, but it still means a fuckton. )

With everyone popping up that we know, I'm worried the wrong person's gonna show up and fuck everything over. He's--( lips pressed tight together for a moment, before jason finds the words. )--sensitive. Someone fucked him up real bad in his own world, and if that person shows up? I'm gonna lose him.

( damian, his baby brother. the one person here jason is extremely concerned over losing. )

If anyone here finds the right pressure points--uses them--god. ( it wouldn't be as bad, but. ) Kid can kick my ass, Lo. If something snaps and he goes for it, I don't know who can stop him.

[ there are a few things that Loki's good at—dangerously good at—and one of those is finding other people's weaknesses. where Jason is immediately turning over a reaction, Loki is deliberate, he manifests his plots and schemes by picking up pieces and placing them specially. while he hadn't been directly involved with Damian, he had been watching him. he knows how deeply knives wielded by family sink, and how much they bleed. in another life, he might've been the one trying to hit those buttons.

Jason touches him and he brushes a cheek against his thumb. there's no empathy, and there's no need for it. Loki's certain that Jason would rather not share the vulnerability, and he's not certain that he's entirely prepared to receive it. ]

There's an edge to the precipice and his toes are very close to it. [ it takes a push here or there, and it would be difficult to reign him in. ] You may be his brother, but you're not his keeper. If something happens, well, there will be ways to deal with it. If the wrong person shows up—our goals remain the same, and perhaps he needs to be reminded, to refocus.

It sounds like a contingency plan is needed. Several, perhaps.

( in another life, not this one, and that's what's important to jason. loki leans into his touch and jason exhales sharp, takes just a moment before he's slouching over hard and pressing his forehead against loki's shoulder. careful to keep skin on clothed bits, because like fuck does he want to share how goddamn scared he is right now. scared of how much damian's going to fall apart, of what a few choice words from bruce wayne himself could do to jason, to all of them. if this bruce is as fucked up as damian's, they're all going to fall to pieces.

and no one wants to put up with that. ) 'm not his keeper, but being an older brother means a shitton more than just keeping. ( there's a weight that comes to it, one jason hasn't really stopped to consider before. there has always been dick grayson there at the front of the line, dick to take all the weight onto his shoulders, to keep jason out of it because they all know how much he fucks shit up.

dick's here, but there's so much bullshit damian won't share with him. things he's alright with jason knowing, but--neither of them wants to piss off the golden boy. )

Need contingency plans for our contingency plans, honestly. Fuck, everything's a huge goddamn mess.

[ Jason leans in and closes the space between them and presses himself to Loki's clothed shoulder. he sinks against the wall with a long sigh, and then raises a hand to press dark nailed fingers against his shoulder. being displaced in a world that had stripped them of their freedom the moment that they stepped into it, under the threat of possibly still being watched, it was easier to ignore it. the circumstance fell like an anchor on everyone.

maybe it came with being a god of chaos, but he played situations, found the best way out. sometimes plans were replaced with improvisation, depending on desired outcome. ]

Oh, yes, everything's far off the rails. [ he won't lie about that, but he doesn't sound too bothered. ] But not unsalvageable. You're resourceful and there's still time. Contingency and improvisation—the two go well together.

( it's one thing to lean against someone when one needs support, it's another to have that support returned in full. loki sinks down and wraps an arm around him and there's--a shudder that runs through jason's spine, weight sinking down onto loki as his arms sag at his side. he's unguarded, there's nothing stopping those fingers from reaching up and grabbing hold of his neck and strangling him to death had loki deemed it necessary.

jason can't find it in himself to care; he trusts loki. trusts him enough to open up to him, to talk to him about--all of this. to lean into him, press his forehead hard into a shoulder and let himself be--vulnerable, for a bit. )

Ymir's balls. ( but it's low, almost teasing. ) You know shit's bad when the chaos god's making a fuckton more sense than anything else.

( but he's raising arms. wrapping them around loki's waist. it's fine, no one can see them in here. )

Don't know what I'd do without you, Lo.

[ they're hidden away of closet from the strained emotions and the blaring loudness of the safehouse. beyond the door there's trauma and loss and dealing with circumstances that were not made by them, but products of an environment that seemed to constantly deal them the wrong hand. as easy as it was to say there were so many things that they could point the finger for—some were just circumstantial, and he hated it. Loki's not good at being a friend, but he knows these feelings, and they're too familiar to not know what to do.

there's a caustic, hard-edged Jason that he shows the world, a passionate one that crawls into his bed when they're alone, and one shattered so many times that the pieces no longer fit together.

the one beneath his fingers now is his, the rest of the multiverse be damned. ]

Well, that's something I haven't heard before. Chaos is what I do. [ he's getting better at navigating his own personal brand of improvisation, the aspect of his nature that old Loki had lost so long ago. ] This most certainly fits the bill. The outcome is never steady, but something changes ...

[ he draws his hips away from the door so Jason can hold on, then settles back again. the arm at his shoulder slides to the other against fabric. there's a quirk of an ironic smile. ]

You've got a head for navigating chaos as much as you've got one for causing it. It may be different when it gets closer, as it shakes the ones around you.

I'll figure it out. ( he's been following his own rules and his own lines since he was a brat, jason'll--figure out how to deal with this. find his own way to push through to damian, as he always has. figure out what to do with this bruce, with this round of newbies. this doesn't even account for the mystery atlantean, but he's--slightly less worried about kaldur'ahm. maybe he does know who jason is, but he doesn't seem stupid enough to spill either. he knows his own world's version of dick, personally. dick grayson has some standards.

loki lets jason wrap around him, holds on to him, too. and it feels nice. being held, having someone tell him he's--got this, in their own words. it's new, different, and jason seriously fucking appreciates it. takes a deep breath in before he's nosing in hard against loki's shoulder, breaths in deep.

and pulls himself back. offers a stupid smarmy grin before leaning back in close to press a soft kiss to the corner of loki's lips. )

And if it doesn't work, I'll just tie 'em all up and throw them into your closet.

Mm—you will. Even if they don't fit. [ he affirms, following Jason's words. if it turns out good or bad, he'll figure it out.

he tilts his head and looks him up and down with a little exasperated sigh. ]

I never thought I'd meet a family as dramatically dysfunctional than mine. [ he raises a thumb to flick it gently against that skeevy looking smile with a look of somewhat soft and smug appeasement. ] But here we are. Reunions must be interesting.

[ a pause and he hooks his fingers on the edge of the door handle. ]

Shall we?

We're not dysfunctional. We're just a bit off.

( with a low snort, before jason's leaning into the thumb against his lips, presses against them in a gentle kiss. loki's fingers grab onto the door just as jason takes a step back, puts some distance between them. and gives him a small nod. they're done here, no need to hide around in a closet any longer. )

Don't forget what I said.

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ARRIVAL LOG 006

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