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- !arrival log,
- castlevania: alucard,
- darker than black: hei,
- dc comics: dick grayson,
- dogs b&c: giovanni rammsteiner,
- dogs b&c: nill,
- ffxiv: arya gastaurknan,
- ffxv: noctis lucis caelum,
- ffxv: prompto argentum,
- game of thrones: sansa stark,
- gangsta: alex benedetto,
- starfighter: cain,
- starfighter: deimos
ARRIVAL LOG 007
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Night of September 20 to night of September 23
WHAT: The seventh arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.
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 are dressed differently: each in a cheap, clunky bodysuit of different colors. Red, blue, yellow, green, black, pink, purple, teal. It's as if you were put into a costume, the blurry shades of the outfits moving in and out with your hazy recognition. Your hair has been recently cut, and is at various stages of growth, and you're restrained across your arms, chests, and feet, left firmly attached to the softly cushioned seat beneath 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 there is a clutter of sounds and lights outside, children and adults milling about, with giddy cheerful music accompanying the pitter patter of sounds. The warm air is dry but cooling, and you'll likely wish you weren't in whatever overwrought attire you were dressed in for the occasion. Before you're let out, the nurse moves to check each passenger, releasing them from their restraints just before they're helped out of the vehicle. The nurse doesn't follow, instead moving to sit as the last passenger is unloaded.
The guards keep their heads down. Their actions are quick and firm, but not unkind. Once the passengers are out, the guards place a mask in each of their hands that matches the color of their clothing, and from it hangs a metal card that will grant everyone entrance to the party up ahead. Then the guards climb back into the vehicle and close the doors. The engine powers up again, and then the bus is gone.
You're left alone at the large entrance of a festival of some kind, with many people milling about in costumes while loud music plays from speakers. The festival itself undoubtedly looks like some kind of costume party, though you'll come to notice that your costumes aren't unique.
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 message from El comes the same as usual: insistent, not waiting for any active attempt to open it. Scrolling within your vision as if being written while you're reading it.
Wow, I have to say – the guys behind this? They're getting creative. I'm sure some of you are already aware, but Anime Naex is on, and arrival #7 is there waiting for you in some rather unfortunate getups. Make sure you look up the Vestica pilots on the way so you can pick them out. Have fun and pick me up something there, will you? I never get to go.
Animation Naexpo – which is more coloquially known as Anime Naex – is a popular annual convention, born out of a subculture of video game and animation fans around the city. Since our time, animation has become a world-wide sensation, and is distributed out of numerous megacities, with each one specializing in their own flavor and genre. There are many smaller conventions that are held every year in New Amsterdam, but this is the largest of them all, complete with the most competitive cosplay competitions, as well as the most popular guests who travel from other megacities around the world to meet and interact with their fans. It also has the hottest venue: set in the tallest hotel in the center of the financial district, it's a place that many of the con attendees could never dream of entering without having the convention as their annual ticket inside.
The streets leading up to the hotel are lined with booths, all trying to sell handmade wares. These booths act as the artist's alley for the convention, allowing people to set up within rented spaces. Many of the artists craft their own supplies – T-shirts, shoes, and other articles of clothing – while also having a code that will allow someone to access their digital gallery if someone might want to commission anyone on their way inside. There won't be anything like the ubiquitous keychains, prints or stickers of today, but there are many an enamel pin for someone to show off their particular allegiances.
Just above these booths and on the way inside, there are numerous AR displays paid for by multiple streaming companies. Any of the new arrivals won't get a read on these displays because their implants aren't registered yet, but the previous arrivals will be able to see targeted advertisements featuring a wide array of different cartoons and animation programs meant for all different types of audiences. These advertisements are often fairly generic, inviting someone inside so they can learn more.
Once inside, it seems that there's a lot to do. Anime Naex is a three day event, and everyone there working the event is dressed up in the same dark blue period costumes, celebrating the biggest show at the moment: a moody noir show that's set in the late 1990s. Each of them have a different pair of gaudy sunglasses, and their pants have numerous pockets, signifying the long-forgotten cargo pants of the past. While these workers are dressed up, they are the hotel employees, and they won't be happy to be there. Try to treat them kindly?
The program for the event is full of a great deal of things, so try to have fun.
> CURRENT HITS
The two top shows that are getting the most attention are Hot Case and Vestica: Aeon. Hot Case is the aforementioned noir anime set in the late 1990s, involving a snarky, too smart for his own good detective as he tries to solve the unsolved mysteries of the previous centuries. He's a cynic who often believes he's chasing urban legends down blind alleys. Vestica: Aeon is the most recent addition to the popular mecha franchise that's been around for well over a century. This particular addition has been running for five years with no end in sight, featuring a rotating cast and different mechs tied to various animal and nature spirits. Otherwise, the current trends vary a lot: many are historical in nature (set in the 20th or 21st centuries, often with an emphasis on traveling to prevent this future from happening), while others are high fantasy and worlds that could never be, free of the constraints of technology and filled with magic and great wonders. There are also plenty of aliens, ready to intervene and keep humanity from destroying itself further. Some shows are more generic than others, and they're typically meant for varying ages rather than genders, with a lot of the modern-day fanservice and tropes left behind as society evolved. But don't worry: there are still magical girls.
> COSTUMES
Much like today, there are a few of the lazy people who haphazardly put together a costume at the last minute or buy it online. But then there's everyone else. Anime Naex is the convention to show off someone's hard work and ingenuity when it comes to the costuming scene. Many of these costumes are high tech in nature – and many involve various inspirational spins on classics, showing the creativity behind the design. Some of the more committed cosplayers have cybernetics to help enable their costumes, helping them replace certain aspects so that it can best suit their appearance for the event the following year. The goal for these cosplayers is always the same: win the big prize at the show, which is a hefty amount of credits and an internship with a top costume designer who's worked on some of the world's biggest blockbusters.
> EVENTS
The three day schedule for Anime Naex is jam packed, with certain panels running around the clock. No matter what, there will always be a steampunk or traditional tea ceremony of some time going on – albeit with leaves that leave a lot to be desired, grown in gardens around the city (don't expect much). Otherwise, there are lots of panels led by guests or con attendees hoping to convince someone to watch their favorite show, or to discuss some of the more involved pieces of subtext. Yes, there are still awkward shipping panels with involved, AR powerpoint displays and clips often taken wildly out of context to prove what they have to say. These panels can get rather heated, often bringing people who discuss and debate online into the same room once a year. There are also many game rooms and amateur gaming competitions.
> THE DEALERS
Like with many different events around New Amsterdam, Anime Naex acts as a hot spot for consumerism. There are numerous booths set up throughout the many floors of the hotel, selling different wares, including various pillows, stuffed creatures, and – while often more expensive – robotic versions of mascots from the shows. These robots lack any artificial intelligence, but function and work rather similarly to appear as if they've come right out of everyone's favorite shows. For anyone who's lacking a stellar costume, there are numerous booths set up to help people buff up what they want.
> THE BALL
There is, of course, a ball. Titled the Dawn Ball, it's held on the Saturday of the event, providing numerous con-goers an opportunity to wear a fancy version of their costume to dance. These balls are opportunities for people to show off their cosplay partner and relationships, and even show a different kind of ingenuity, as they maintain their character in question while wearing formal wear. Admission does require formal wear, and most of the people who go are on the younger side.
> MISCELLANY
Like any convention, there are always those people who stroll up to stay in a hotel without knowing what they're getting in to, and that'll happen here. Unaware of why so many rooms weren't available, there will be the occasional individual who doesn't know what's even happening. Life outside of the hub of the convention will go on as normal … but with a lot more strangely costumed people walking the streets as they go out to get food or head home after the day's events. Many of the restaurants nearby will have restaurant week deals with special menus designed for con goers. Prove you have a badge to get another discount – and try out your favorite Vestica pilot's favorite snack!
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.
There is a sign of some things being in disarray, with numerous metal containers meant to help stock things, as well as be moved out. There will be Morningstar agents moving in and out of the safehouse, helping prepare for the next step for their lives.
◉ 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 24. 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.
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 24 (February 17). 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, 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 February calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month, as well as some additional notes from the mods. We made a couple of revisions/corrections to the calendar since it was first posted, so please have another look at it!
As a reminder, AC for new characters accepted in February 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 March 1 and close on March 7. If you do not reply to AC, you will be considered idled and dropped from the game. We will not post a warning list.
QUESTIONS
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billy kaplan, marvel 616
damn he hates everything
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safehouse
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safehouse!
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ii. safehouse
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hums the safety dance
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Thomas "Tommy" Magnus | Mavel Comics
[ This would ordinarily be his kind of place. His kind of environment. Full of people, sounds, carefree partying without the need for formal attire - but something is deeply, deeply wrong. Not just the kidnapping, nor the armed guards before him (if he had to guess, he assumed it was some part of Pietro's coup against the crown) but the fact that when he stumbles out of the van, he can't just run off.
Well, he can. He can run. But it's not fast. Not right. His chest sears when he tries to shift into high gear and catches him off guard, having him stumble and skid into a poor unassuming patron, and then again into someone else as he tries again.]
Uh, sorry.
[ Something is deeply, deeply wrong. ]
[ ooc. kate's going to find him and take him back to the safehouse but people are free to run into him! ]
ii. SAFEHOUSE
[ Tommy does one thing upon getting to the safehouse: he finds something to eat.
He's starving. Not literally, but he can feel the grinding hunger that comes with not having eaten in a while. Are these your leftovers? Sorry, his now. He can't run fast and he's pretty sure he can't also eat his bodyweight in pancakes and still be hungry, but he's hungry enough to just drop an IOU to whoever's snacks he's stealing. And he goes back multiple times.
Other than that, all he can do is scope the place out. See if he can't sweet talk someone into letting him out for a run - speedsters don't do well in confinement, and he can feel his skin buzzing with...
Well that might not be the need to run, but there's buzzing. And he wants out.
And when that fails? There's always his bed. Which, after reuniting with him, he set as close to his brother's as possible. ]
i!
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ii
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safehouse
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ii
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ii. safehouse
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arya gastaurknan | final fantasy xiv
two-point-five: this world looked absolutely nothing like Eorzea.
at some point in her confusion, she managed to wander away from the original group of new transports and found herself thoroughly lost within the throng of costumed congoers, which does nothing to ease her earlier apprehension and uncertainty. she soon finds herself stumbling through the artist's alley, having already been stopped a couple of times for picture requests (all of which she found herself unable to decline). she began to grow increasingly anxious from all the foreign sights and smells around her, feeling completely naked without the weight of her rapier at her side. not to mention the sweltering heat and odd outfit she found herself in wasn't doing her any favors.
unaware of where she was going, it was only a matter of time before Arya bumped into a well-equipped cosplayer posing for a picture. wide-eyed, she backs away with her hands up in surrender. ] Oh! F-forgive me, I hadn't been… I'm sorry, I'll just be-- oof!!
[ and there she goes into another congoer. ]
How adorable…!
[ it took a little bit, about a half hour at most, but once Arya was able to hide in a small hole and gather her bearings with a few deep breaths, she was able to properly face the crowd with a little more gusto than before. she spent much of her time wandering through the "artist's alley", mostly keeping an eye out for either a familiar face (not likely to find) or a helpful one.
that is, until she got a little sidetracked by a booth selling a collection of hug-sized bird plushies. a yellow one in particular has her especially enraptured. it was, unfortunately for Arya, too high for her to grab, so all she could do was admire it from afar while the booth attendant watched her as she browsed with no small amount of impatience. ]
It looks just like a chocobo… [ it doesn't occur to her that she might be blocking the display until she feels someone come up behind her. ] I'm sorry! Am I in the way?
[ it's late by the time she's led back to the safehouse, and tired doesn't even begin to describe how she feels. she's finally out of that accursed suit that she was in, now currently wearing the clothes she was given upon her arrival. they wouldn't have been her first choice of wear if she had a say in it, but considering how hot that previous suit was, she made no arguments to the looser clothes.
at present, Arya could be found anywhere within the safehouse. over at the cots, she could be found trying to stay awake as she sorted through some more clothes, along with other odds and ends that were apparently left behind by the previous tenants. she already made use of one of the things left behind: a well-worn headband with a flower decal was now holding back her significantly shorter hair. she can also bee seen in the communal bathroom, trying to make sense of how the showers function here. lastly, she could be found in the kitchen, looking through the pantries for at least something to eat. should anyone happen upon her in these areas, she'll offer a small, tired smile. ]
Beg pardon. I won't be long, I promise.
[ the smile's there, but Arya's eyes are also red. whether it's because of exhaustion or she had a cry earlier, it's hard to tell. ]
[ none of these prompts catch your eye? would you rather do something else? feel free to hit me up! my plurk is over at
safehouse
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PLUSHIES
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002
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safehouse: bathroom
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expo oo1
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deimos | starfighter
[Something is wrong. This much Deimos can put together through the disorienting haze of what feels like a long forgotten slumber. Especially when he can't find the comfort in hiding his face behind his bangs. Not that he feels like he can hide-- a distant memory of rough hands pulling him around leaves him feeling numb to even the strangest of sights and sounds. The thrumming of a vehicle, bright costumes, even the methodological way they're checked and escorted out of the bus, Deimos lets them all happen without even attempting to struggle or speak out. He looks almost pensive, like he's made his peace with what has happened.
Until panic rises in the back of his mind when they're handed their masks and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest, threatening to rip right out of him. He expects a firing squad or something worse.
But then nothing happens and instinct pulls him to his feet, leaving behind the other people who just arrived with him as he runs inside the festival to escape. No. To hide.
Hiding is easy even in the gaudy pink bodysuit of his and is made even easier when he slips the mask over his face. No one pays him much attention as he aimlessly roams the exposition. Or so he thinks. The adrenaline coursing through his body has him nervous, unable to properly think straight as he does his best to avoid people.]
2. costumes & dealers
[The cosplayers help ease Deimos out of his panic. He starts to slow down and even stop to admire the appearance of some of the costumes. It's foreign and yet it brings him a sense of calm. He can't quite put his finger on it but suspects that it has a lot to do with the fake weaponry that some people have created to pull off their amazing looks. Some of it looks neat while others look absolutely breathless. It has him itching to speak to some of the people, to ask questions, but the stinging pain of being too shy to talk hits him. Reminds him that he shouldn't. But he makes up for his lack of speaking for his knack for eavesdropping. Something about the dealers room?
A part of Deimos knows that they're all fake- that these sci-fi knives aren't real and are probably foam replicas of the real thing. Still he finds himself looking in the dealers room hoping that someone has something similar. Even if it's a fake, it can still be used in a threatening way.]
3. safehouse
a)
[The first thing Deimos does at the safehouse is pick out his cot (the one with the least amount of neighbors) and stake claim to this bed by taking off his shoes and placing them on the sheets. He then collects his toiletries and clothes wordlessly before making his way for the communal bathrooms. Showering is a quick effort as he's eager to not let strangers get near him.
So when he returns, newly dressed with clothes that hang off his frame, he makes a beeline for his cot. After making sure no one came near or claimed beds near his, he decides to sit quietly on his cot. Using this time to observe all the people that move about the safehouse and taking note of who they might be and what business they have here.
Should anyone try to pick a cot near Deimos' own (or approach too closely), they'll get a loud cough and a glare from the quiet man, indicating that they should pick a different cot. Maybe they should too, considering he doesn't look pleased anyone's gotten near him.]
b)
[While Deimos spends a decent amount of time guarding his cot, he also realizes he should probably move around to to get a sense of the place. So he takes the time to scout out the safehouse, committed to learning the ins and outs. There's a lot to take in but this is nothing new to him. He's used to maneuvering through new places and the stride in his steps shows it.
Perhaps he's a bit too confident in the way he searches around the base because eventually he shamelessly starts going through other people's stuff. Not openly of course. Deimos tries to do it in subtle little ways like accidentally dropping a smaller belonging of his into an abandoned crate. Anyone watching him would be quick to catch on to his little trick since he's apparently so "clumsy."]
wildcard
[open to other ideas and suggestions <3]
2
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3.b
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3b
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1.
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safehouse: b
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1
RUDE
dealer
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safehouse a.
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Alex Benedetto (GANGSTA.)
[ The first thing that Alex really registers is the sight of her lap: the bright gaudy teal material that is now covering her thighs. This isn’t how she usually sits. Most times her hands folded neatly in her lap and one ankle tucked behind the other. But her hands and legs are rearranged differently and strange. She thinks she might have blacked out again in between. Things only coming in bursts; hazy, distorted visions and moments that will never really be examined or remembered again. At least that is something achingly familiar.
Alex cracks an eye open just as the vehicle pulls up to a strange venue, and suddenly there’s a thundering sound of music, bass line cutting through and vibrating uncomfortably in her chest. Her pupils feel blown wide, taking in too much colour and shape at once, but it doesn’t matter because there’s a woman suddenly in front of her, looking her over and she is being tugged out of the bus and set on her feet. Alex sways uneasy but turns to look at the nurse who is shuffling back into the vehicle. She’s leaving. But that doesn’t make sense. Alex is not feeling better, she needs help, and nurses are suppose to help. She tries to say something but her throat is too tight. She watches the bus pull away, everything feeling too surreal and distant.
The mask in her hand slips out of her numb fingers and clatters to the ground with the metal pass. She doesn’t seem to notice. ]
Where is she going?
[ Not said to anyone in particular, her face and voice completely neutral, eyes fixed on the far off point where the bus crew has vanished. ]
(AN NAEX’D.)
[ There’s nothing to really do but wander. And Alex almost immediately regrets it as soon as she’s past the threshold. Everything is eye watering bright, too much excitement and sound and people yelling. It reminds her of the girls crowing and crowding the entrance to the club Bastard. But now she’s questioning if even that is a reliable enough memory.
It only gets worse when she rounds a corner and a group of people spots her and immediately rush over. There’s a flurry of questions in her direction; “who are you cosplaying?”, “did you make it yourself?”, “you look exactly like season two version of--”, “can I see your mask?”
Alex silently passes the prop over and the group starts turning it this way and that, excited for reasons beyond her. She can feel her heart picking up, not sure what any of it means or why she even handed it over to begin with. ]
I’m not sure… what you’re asking. Just--
[ She takes several steps back, looking like she would like to bolt. But she wants the mask back. ]
(SAFEHOUSE.)
[ At an ungodly hour in the morning Alex is up, rustling around the dormitory, trying to be as quiet as possible in order to not wake anyone else, but being largely unsuccessful. Especially when she’s lifting cots and and looking under various dented furniture.
In the spot next to her cot she has collected various abandoned items from people before them and has arranged them into neat piles. Socks with socks, questionable clothes folded neatly like they could be displayed in a store window, and various miscellaneous items sorted by size and usefulness. She’s found an over large men’s white dress shirt and a pair of women’s bike shorts which she decided to borrow, for now. The owners don't look like they’re coming back any time soon, and a random urge to tidy is an important chore to do while comfortable. ]
(WILDCARD.)
( Whatever you’d like in whatever scenario! )
an naex'd
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an naex'd
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sorry for the wait!
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arrival
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nill | DOGS: BULLETS & CARNAGE
[The light is so warm.
It's the only thought she has as she's engulfed in the brightness that carries her away from the Avagi station, towards the unknown she quietly hopes is home. And that hope is dashed by a flash of pain, followed by terrible, unnatural numbness. Then, the darkness descends and Nill knows nothing more.
When she wakes, it is by degrees. There are noises around her; not the muffled sound of alarms going off in closed-off, dying parts of the station or even the steady hum of the life support system when it had been halfway functioning. No, it's the sound of... a city. Recognition comes from some faraway place that seems like a dream. It sounds like home. And her heart flutters in her chest, a wild thing trying so hard to break free as that hope rekindles and threatens to burn her up inside.
Nill opens her eyes and sees a man in medical scrubs. The fire of hope dies and goes cold, dread spreading through her veins like a poison that had laid dormant for months and months. Her hands and legs are bound, she's in a vehicle, moving fast. Yes, she's in a city, and it may be her home, but it's the worst possible part of home she could have ended up. Now her heart really is trying to claw its way out from between her ribs, but now because of terror.
When they stop and she's taken out of the car, she has to be carried. Despite all her months of training, all the terrible things she's seen, Nill is frozen with fear and can't even step out of the truck on her own. She's left to lean heavily against a wall, a scrap of cloth and a card in her hand. For what seems like a long time but is probably only a few minutes, Nill stays where she is, unable to move. The costume she's been given is a light blue, nearly the same shade as her eyes, wide with fear.
Slits have been cut in the back of it to accommodate her wings, which may actually help her blend in a bit more with the crowd of convention-goers as she finally finds the strength to stumble into the stream of people. She lets them push her along, reaching up to touch her aching head--and realizing for the first time that her long hair has been sheared down to a pixie cut. Her wings flutter behind her as anxiety mounts. Her hands begin to shake. She isn't home. She has no idea where she is, let alone where Badou or Tetora might be.
She is, as far as she can tell, alone.
For some reason, this snaps her right out of letting herself be mindlessly pulled along by the crowd heading for the hotel. Though she's not as small as she used to be, it's still easy for her to push her way to the edge of the crowd, finding a space between a couple of booths, one she thinks is unoccupied, so she can take a minute to think. Her wings flap a few times as she takes some deep breaths, trying to calm down. She's been alone before. She can handle herself now.
Right?]
[ooc; i'm down for interactions at any of the events or venues at the convention! nill is very curious and will probably be all over the place, investigating everything she can.]
there's something wholesome, there's something sweet [THE SAFEHOUSE]
[Despite its name, the place she's taken and is told will be her temporary home doesn't make Nill feel safe at all. After her time on the ship and the station she's gotten used to close quarters, but there had at least been a veil of privacy in having to share a room with only one person. But here, everything is done together. Nill chooses a cot in a corner, preferring to have two of her sides protected by walls. Her hand-me-downs are kept neatly folded at the foot of the mattress until she goes to sleep, at which point they are pushed against the wall to act as insulation. She gives the communal bathroom as wide a berth as she can, preferring to shower at night when she thinks nobody else is awake. She also checks out the medical area, casting a critical and strangely knowing eye over the supplies. If anyone happens to need attention, her first-aid skills aren't half bad.
Most of her time is spent in the kitchen. Nill has always loved to cook, and while she hadn't had access to many fresh ingredients on the Avagi, her time on the planet Kaittos had let her learn quite a bit. She sticks to the basics, getting up early to bake fresh bread. She kneads the dough with flour up to her elbows, her wings occasionally flapping as she works, silently enjoying the peace of the morning as it gives her time to think on her new situation. And meet new people in a decidedly nonthreatening environment.
Notably, she doesn't say a word to anyone else in the safehouse.]
tucked in your eyes that i'd like to meet [WILDCARD]
[ooc; i'm down for just about anything! nill is a CRAU, and the info on that can be found here. she is between sixteen and seventeen years old. main physical changes from her canonpoint include a couple inches in height, a little rounding out, an increase in her physical fitness, and short hair (upon entry into new amsterdam).
hit me up on plurk at
safehouse --> kitchen!
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i thought i replied to this, i'm so sorry!
no worries!
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babe
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Catherine | SOMA
It's disorienting at first, but this isn't the first time Catherine has woken up in a different shape than when she last blinked. It's both more and less confusing this time: before, she'd known she'd scanned herself, so it'd made sense that a blink later she'd be returning to consciousness housed on a cortex chip. She'd had to transfer herself over to that bot she was in before Simon found her, but her circumstances had made sense, even if they were onerous and lacking in explanation in the wreckage of PATHOS-II. Here...
Here, she has no idea where this is or what she's doing, or why she's in -- apparently -- an organic body. Humanity must have recovered, it seems. Catherine doesn't even know how to feel about that yet, that the ARK had launched but maybe for no real reason. This must be the future, maybe hundreds of years into the future. That much is clear.
What she's doing here, why they've shoved her scan into this body and this costume, why they aren't giving her any explanations and are shuffling her out into an anime convention -- that Catherine has no explanation for. And as she starts to regain feeling and control and conscious thought, a low-grade panic sets in.
Because she's human again. Human. She'd thought she was done with that.
> ONE ; NAEXPO ; ARRIVAL
Having a silent panic attack in the middle of an anime convention is not Catherine's favorite activity. With her organic, human body returned to her (and it's hers, not something they built; they either patterned it off of her memory files or they know her and that is an extra layer of disturbing), she has a lot of things to adjust to. She seems to remember well enough how to walk, how to form words, basic aspects of being alive and embodied. But the pangs of hunger quickly coming over her, the nerves lacing her skin at all the people and all the attention and her confusion and fear --
She has not missed that. Catherine never enjoyed her social anxiety and had been frankly deeply relieved to shed most of it when she turned digital. It's back now, like a highly unwelcome guest.
So, there's a short, 30s-ish Taiwanese woman dressed in a teal pilot's costume slinking slowly behind people as she explores, taking occasional rest stops to close her eyes in an out-of-the-way corridor and try to remember how to breathe. Anyone who knows how to identify panic attacks can probably peg this one.
Catherine can't do this. Is this how Simon had felt? Oh, God -- where is Simon? Why would they restore her scan and not his? He's the one who should be doing this. He'd be delighted instead of halfway to a heart attack.
Simon... they're not friends. She'd known him for something like an hour, from her perspective. But she already feels completely lost and alone without him.
> TWO ; NAEXPO ; LATER
Given time to adjust, Catherine starts to get a grip on herself. She's a practical person, and once she starts to feel her way into her skin again and accept her reality, she turns her attention to information gathering and exploration. Catherine didn't fall to pieces when the comet hit; she didn't when people started wanting to use the ARK for the salvation of humanity; and she didn't in the WAU-infested grotesque shell of the place she used to live and work.
She can do this. Really.
Mostly what ends up getting Catherine out of her panic is noticing all the adorable toys and little robot mascots at the vendors. She doesn't have money to purchase anything -- or have a way to tell how expensive these are -- but they start to pull smiles out of her, and she's disappointed to learn the people selling them are not who made the robots.
"These are so cute," she tells the vendor, tone reluctant as if pulled out of her from a distance; but it gradually warms as she goes on. "What show is this from? Oh... the one for the costume I'm wearing? Sorry, I don't really cosplay -- I sorta stumbled onto this." Not a lie, exactly. It doesn't seem wise to go around admitting she's a lost centuries-old brain scan shoved by some mysterious group into a human body.
She can also be found hijacking VR demos, spending relatively little time using them to play the game and much more time interrogating the system by turning the devices over in her hands, peering inside as best she can, and generally looking miffed that she can't abscond with it and take it apart. Catherine is reluctant to draw attention and is generally rule-abiding to start, so fortunately for the staff manning the VR stations, she's limiting herself to spending more than her fair share of time examining the systems.
> THREE ; SAFEHOUSE ; THE NEXT DAY
By the time she gets to the safehouse, Catherine is pretty ready to crash. The communal living doesn't bother her too much, as luxury accommodations had not been part of PATHOS-II, and she'd dedicated her life to living like an astronaut in order to advance science. So she more or less falls onto her cot and passes out, relieved to sleep normally for once and feel time pass as it should. There's one good thing about being human again, at least. Just that one so far.
The next day, Catherine yawns expansively as she gets up, and goes about some morning hygiene with a highly disgruntled, discomfitted internal sense. Her body seems disconnected from her mind, like everything is happening to someone else. She shouldn't be in a body. Not like this. As such, she can be noticed going through a morning routine as fast as possible, showering and eating and all the rest with an unusual perfunctory speed.
And then she's left with nothing to do. For a workaholic, this is devastating.
Catherine gathers up her courage and starts accosting the other people in there with her. "So, are we just dumped here like spare parts, or is there something for us to do? I'd really rather not twiddle my thumbs for the next four days."
[ooc: Brackets are perfectly fine, also! Either way! And please ping me on plurk at
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sansa stark : a song of ice and fire (crau)
[Everything feels wrong - her head, her limbs, the tightness in her chest that feels both like fear and something else that she doesn't want to (can't) think about as she tries to move past the vast sea of people in which she recognizes no one.
Not Jon, not Arya, not Elliot or Emily or (Charis??) a single person she's ever encountered.
It might well be a dream, or some sort of vision that's only partly real - but blinking hard doesn't loosen its grip on her, and neither does the near run she breaks into before almost colliding with a group of strangely dressed ...revelers? It seems market, a series of shops, a party and a festival at once?
Still masked, she's stopped in her tracks almost as soon as she's started, suddenly reminded of the festival in Anatole - the soft blue snake that Sandor had won her - why that memory of all things - and her sudden inertia has put her right in someone's way, of course.]
ii : safehouse
[She's chosen a cot without complaint, keeping her words to herself thus far, not so easy to read as she might once have been - still clad in her black suit, she's folded the new clothing, re-folded it and left it (along with her mask) on the small pillow behind her.
If she's not on that cot, silently observing people as they come and go (and sometimes stay) she's moving through the area, pausing in the bathroom to stare at her reflection (her hair has no shape to it, it's just spiky growth everywhere (To compare her to Sid Vicious would not be off base.)
At some point, she's found herself a few packets of hot cocoa in the kitchen, and sits, stirring it - staring far too intently into the mug in front of her. She's not averse to sharing, if asked. (Maybe even if not asked.)
iii : anything goes
Open to all things, or hmu on plurk @
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i - lmk if this isn't ok
this is fiiine! <3
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illya kuryakin (tmfu)
[ everything about this is ridiculous. from the people in costumes to the people that think he, out of everyone that walks by, would like to buy a weapon with a name that he cannot even pronounce. perhaps if it was an actual weapon, he would consider it and just get someone to show him but these are all fake.
he does not want something fancy to display.
and he really doesn't want people coming up to excitedly chatter to him about television shows and why isn't he in costume and does he want to borrow their cape? the answer to all of that is no, something he snaps at several strangers that get a little too close.
maybe he is a little more irritable than usual. ]
ii ➣ ➣ ➣ city
[ he spends a lot of time at the fighting rings lately, deciding that no challenge is too small and no fight is too much. he wins most of the time but he does suffer a loss or two just because he chooses to not really rest in between matches.
but those instances are few and far between and he always makes up for it the next time the fights. he still hasn't gotten any direct interest from the petrovs but he knows their eyes are on him and he knows they are winning a lot of money because of his matches as well.
when he isn't fighting, he stops into various bars and has a few drinks. he's allowed himself that luxury since his arrival here though he's been careful to not overindulge. well, for the most part. perhaps a slip up is due, yes?
otherwise, he can be out on early morning jogs or late night walks because restless energy is a terrible thing. ]
iii ➣ ➣ ➣ wildcard
[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at
ii
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early morning jogs
what's up, son
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