ARRIVAL LOG 008

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Night of October 5 to night of October 8
WHAT: The eighth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy, alcohol usage. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #008

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 blue short sleeve shirts and ill-fitting jeans, 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, there is the smell of beer and a weird yodel-like sound – no, wait. That is definitely yodeling and beer. Further movement forward will lead to you finding yourself in a busy area filled with multiple people carrying reusable cups full of liquid. You've just shown up at a party with a bunch of people wearing nearly identical clothing. The good thing is that everyone is probably too drunk to notice.

◉ 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.

> OKTOBERFEST

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.

I'm starting to think that the arrests last month mean that our friendly delivery men have had to change up what they're doing. Either way - the group waiting for you this time is huge. The get up? Blue shirts, all around. Let's see how long that lasts. Anyway. Arrival #8. You know the deal, don't you? I bet you're all already out there having a good time.

Although New Amsterdam is a mish-mash of world cultures, there are certain traditions that took root in the city as it began to form its identity. Yes, one was Anime Naexpo. Another? Oktoberfest. Hoping to capitalize on the heritage of the region, businesses throughout New Amsterdam pushed for the continued celebration of Oktoberfest. In fact, the only time it wasn't celebrated was during the Xelkoven War, as the fight between humans and AI meant that any celebrations were put by the wayside.

Perhaps even more so than having to work during an anime convention, Oktoberfest is not a fun time for customer service workers. All around, various different cashiers, food truck chefs and drivers, rickshawers, couriers and more find that they don't have a choice but to dress up in Dutch costumes recalling times of the past. These costumes are typically pulled out of some back closest and generally assigned to the employees, so some of them won't fit all that well. The problem is that it isn't cool enough to be dressed in these as the days cool off, and the only saving grace is that they get to work at night rather than the day. The early parts of their shifts are miserably hot, and things don't get better from there. If your character is a customer service employee, they can expect some uncomfortable days ahead.

Somehow, the discomfort of the various workers doesn't come in the way of the loud and festive activities. All around New Amsterdam, various tents go up selling a lot of different wares, many of which are probably second hand junk that people are trying to sell off for a few credits. This is the time when the Black Market stops working underground, instead opening temporary store fronts in tents that are far too nice for the wares they're providing (but at least they're trying to be a less obvious money laundering front). If someone's looking to get in good with the underground or get a sense of how to find these places for some actually illegal goods, Oktoberfest is a prime place to start.

Otherwise? Oktoberfest is likely full of what anyone would expect: a lot of beer, funny looking Bavarian clothing, a lot of live music, and a lot of opportunities for drunken folk to put on a good show. If your character is the type to look for an opening to grab some attention, this is the place to do it.

◉ There will be a lot of beers available in pretty much every single tent. The drinking age in New Amsterdam is 18, but it's equally unlikely that anyone will be checking implants with how busy everything will be. The most popular beer this year? "We're Lucky We're Not Cyborgs," an extremely hoppy IPA made by the most popular brewery in New Amsterdam. All of the beers are available in bottles that you can return for more, as businesses no longer sell alcohol by the can. Think of growlers – but in a far more manageable size! Feel free to come up with the cyberpunk name of your dreams for the beer. Or people can just drink the New Amsterdam River – which is the name of the beer with a picture of the man-made river on it. It's cheap, but reliable. Oh, and for those of you that don't like the taste of beer, there's cider and mead on tap at most places as well.

◉ There will be various stages all over for acts to perform, but the schedules will not be full. Before long, the characters will know that Oktoberfest is where some people plan to get discovered. And … it's also a place where some people become social media sensations, in either good or bad ways. Need to propose to someone? Need to show off your abs? These stages are the place to be. If someone's not up there, take the chance and make it your time to shine. Or … go down in infamy.

◉ Most of the food throughout the festival will harken back to its German heritage, albeit without a whole lot of success. There are sausages, but much like the hot dogs of today, it's likely better that you don't ask what's in them. A safe bet is the large array of potato dishes around. These are delicious – and cheap!

◉ There are some competitions, too! Virtual fencing – albeit in a very, very amateurish way – and virtual crossbow competitions happen throughout the three-day event. And then there's yodeling. One of the stages will be dedicated to this the entire time. Yes, people practice to win big, but that doesn't mean that everyone has to practice.

◉ Like with Oktoberfest of the past, celebrities will have their own VIP tent right in the heart of the financial district. If you have a favorite music, film, or movie star and they have a penchant for partying, this is the place to be. Sneaking in will be hard – but not impossible. Though some will find that they might have to work this tent. These celebrities can't go without their coffee or beer, after all.

> 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.

◉ There will be shifts when Gaby isn't present in the safehouse because she's shorthanded following the UNA attacks in our January event. New characters will find that if they try to open the hatch to leave during this time, it'll be sealed shut for anyone without a registered implant.

◉ 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 OCTOBER 9. 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.

> WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

As everyone goes to sleep, a familiar stomp vibrates through New Tokyo on the other side of the world. The wall outside of the city is stable at first, holding up, but the vibrations continue. The creature this time is twice as large as the one that hit New Amsterdam – 800m high, yet not seen until right around when the vibrations began. It should have been, by all rights: New Tokyo is no less secure than the other cities around the world, with constant surveillance and a dedication toward maintaining an idyllic life for its citizens. Its behavior is similar: it slams its tail against the outer wall of the city before it gives way, the destruction nearly absolute. In a panic, New Tokyo's UNA forces and police force move into action to try to bring down the monster and protect its citizens.

At the same time, whether they're still awake or already asleep, something stirs inside of the displaced. Their chests will glow without anything to bring it about – no power drawn on, either innate or new, and no skin touching. This glow seems to fatigue any of them if they're still awake, and will send anyone already asleep into a deeper one. Once they're under, the stirring within will give way to unrest that foments dreams and visions for many of the displaced. If they had a dream while they slept, characters will wake up with a burning sensation in their chest.

As for New Tokyo: it will be left in ruins by the time the UNA soldiers there manage to take down the monster. Several sections of the city remain intact – almost out of luck – and the governor of New Tokyo reports that they believe this monster came from outside of the city, having been given life by the unsafe conditions outside of the megacity. Within a few hours, this statement will be revised, with the governor admitting that he doesn't know what the monster was or where it came from, only that their surveillance saw that it came from outside.

The three dreams below are what each character will experience, though you can feel free to assume they managed to jar themselves awake before the dream finished. To get a dream, please comment below to get an RNGed number for the dream that they'll be having. Since these are unnatural dreams, you can feel free to have your character remember it in its entirety – or not, if that's what you'd prefer.

If you have multiple characters, we suggest you only have one experience a dream, but it's ultimately up to you!

> DREAM 001

A blue glow illuminates the site – offering light on a foggy morning, with everyone having completed their journey to this final destination. A sense of fatigue and relief that washes over everyone there, but also an inner warmth that seems to radiate from the site itself. Huge rocks rise up on either side of the site, acting as shielding barriers for these followers and what lies ahead of them. Despite the lack of natural light cast through the thick fog, there's still a distant glow, leading them forward.

You find yourself among these people, well aware of the many miles you walked to get here, most of it on an incline. Around you, the clothes that people wear are worn, tattered, made from wool that's begun to wear down. How long have you all been traveling? It's hard to say – hard to guess, only that you know that you were all drawn here. No single story is the same. Some saw symbols: triangles that glowed when they saw them in the periphery, as well as bits of circles coming together. The tree of life. Perfect like nature in its finest form. Others could never put the words to what they experienced.

Each of you feel the draw now. It resonates within you, fills you up. Just ahead, there are structures that seem to float in space, and when you draw closer, a clear, light blue bridge appears. The walk forward requires a leap of faith – and there are some unwilling to take it. Afraid. They wonder if they've wasted their time.

But you haven't. You walk forward, and the bridge carries you forward. You can't tell if you're walking or literally carried, but eventually you come to an alcove where a strange circular structure stands. As you step closer, it comes to life, a mixture of lights and – no, not sounds. But the same resonating warmth.

You walk into it and –

– you find yourself somewhere else. Somewhere new.

> DREAM 002

– this is not where you belong where you've chosen to live – this is not it this is not it this is not it –

Your fingers spread, wrapping around the nearest metal instrument to drag it close. You test the edge against your skin, drawing out a sharp pain. You never asked for this particular experience. But every day, you feel it.

It's time to take back what you can. The walls around you are white, pristine. Somehow, you know that they weren't a day ago. One of the others you know got sick, doubled over after a bad interaction with a medication. You see them now, dark rings under their eyes, a shaved head. How do you know this? Your mind doesn't answer you. You just react. Someone in a coat as white as the room draws closer. Checking your vital signs. Your breathing picks up – your lungs hurt. You lash out with the instrument, cutting deep. A bright red spreads. A sick smile creeps over your lips. You know that color, deep within you. You know it.

And then there's nothing.

And then life moves on (your life moves on). Has time passed? The room is different. The person with the red splotch of color on their lab coat is gone, and your build is different. More gangly, uncontrolled. Deep down, you feel an unabiding frustration. You hear a shout: "Put them down!" It's too late. A fire erupts. The doors seal.

> DREAM 003

You recognize the walls. The building. But there's some barrier between you and it, a constant, subdued fog that lies between you and your surroundings. The lights are bright. Everyone moves in a single file, dressed in the same white scrubs. You're among them. The workers walk alongside you, occasionally checking your vital signs. Sometimes they make you grab each other's hands, noting the shift in reactions or responses.

The air here is cool. Stale. Your head is cold, recently shaven. Like everyone else, sans a few. It looks like it's been a while since they had a haircut. You don't recognize them, not like the others. You're certain that you recognize the others.

Thought is difficult to process. There's an IV into your arm. You try to make out more of your surroundings, but the fog encroaches and takes over. You're missing your chance. Your chance to know where you are – were? Who did this to you?

Distantly, you see a marking on a wall. Letters. P - R - O - PROJECT. You're certain of it. What else is there? Nothing. No. Something, but not another word. It's a symbol of some kind, or – an animal? There's a splotch of yellow, bright and prominent on its breast, with a dark V that cuts down. The fog obscures the rest.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

This arrival log is a little different, as it doubles as a prologue for our monthly event! Everyone's character can have one of the dreams, and it'll hit them anytime within a day of the attack on New Tokyo. This does include anyone new to the game! So, please go ahead and comment below to have your dreaming character assigned a number. All assignments will be random on our part!

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 OCTOBER 9 (MARCH 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.

All arrival logs act as mingles, so older players can please feel free to top level for the festivities described!

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 March calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month, as well as some additional notes from the mods.

As a reminder, AC for new characters accepted in March 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 April 1 and close on April 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.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[evite]

Couple days. I think it was four when I got here, but I don't know if that's hard and fast. [ might have just been busy. who knows if gaby and el have the same amount of time for this group. there were more of them, too. so maybe it might take longer. ] But everyone gets out, eventually. You're not on permanent house arrest or anything.

[ just for a little while, and then it's over. ]

If I can think about what it should look like, I can usually figure it out. New stuff's harder than things I've practiced, obviously, but it's not … [ she shrugs. ] Did you ever play with blocks when you were a kid? Like LEGO or whatever? It's kind of like that. Taking stuff apart, putting it back together.

[apathet]

Fuck you. These are the only gift the gods have ever given me.

[ fucking gods. but if they're responsible for this food, for these blessed potatoes, if Easter's out there somewhere raining life down on the potato farms that put this carb concoction on her fork? she'll bend knees and kiss toes, maybe even say a kind word.

and as fuck yous go, it's not a particularly violent one. could have just as easily been replaced with "shut up" if anybody had ever successfully taught her to watch her mouth. guy wants to sit here? he can knock himself out. if he's going to talk, the consequences of her answers are his to bear.

stabbing a biteful of potato, she raises her fork food-up in example. ]

You have no idea.

[ how fucking good these potatoes are, shit. ]

[apathet]

[ it's not just you, caroline.

Laura's in the middle of mushing the potato down in her mouth and letting it sit in her saliva in a culinary move she's not made since she was a kid and will doubtless be disgusted by in approximately 3 weeks time when the blonde lands opposite, and she's faced with a dilemma. sit or swallow? yes, that's sit, not spit, we don't waste potato here.

there are an awkward couple of seconds while she handles his difficult question, prods at the potato waiting in her closed mouth with her tongue, and deems it warm and soft enough to go down the pipe. she's had her fun, she can do it again, it's fine.

an obvious swallow later and she's diving in, words coming before she's even really had chance to get done with the biology of it, the result a slightly moist "th" on the first word. ] —They're really great. Like, fucking good.

[ should she be asking questions? thinking about serious shit? introducing herself? whatever. fries. ]

Good to know the future hasn't fucked up fries.

[theseuschip]

[ Somehow it’s this, embarrassing himself with a public panic attack, that’s the most Human Simon he’s felt since he last was — last remembers — human Simon. Maybe because it was one of the most recent and most colorful additions to his daily routine. Or because in PATHOS-II, with a brain that took heroic measures to keep him from thinking about breathing, he never quite got to this point no matter how many great reasons he would have had. Not in this particular meatspacey way.


Underneath the out-of-body experience, it’s like picking up exactly where he left off as The Guy With Brain Damage, making people uncomfortable with his existence. The voice comes to him as if from underwater, familiar but distant, and his face burns. It occurs to like five of his neurons that that’s a rude thing to say to somebody, but Simon just answers reflexively, voice tight and breathless. ] Yeah.

[ He grabs the doorframe white-knuckled, already planning a route to the storage room, and here’s to hoping there’s no one there. And he turns, and stops, struck dumb, wild hope surging in his chest.

He blinks. Still looks like her. But— ]

Ca— Catherine?

[lighthearted]

[ Sora's vision is a little blurry from all the strain, and there's a ringing in his ears, which makes his reaction to the sudden appearance of another person delayed. He does eventually realize, though, and slowly lifts his head up to see long blond hair and...

Wings?

Setting that aside for now, he can see from the look on her face that she's worried about him. He smiles at her, trying to set her at ease, and then lifts one of his hands to wipe at his forehead. He's able to lean back onto his knees, arms settling at his sides as he continues to try and catch his breath.

She might have said something to him that he didn't hear, so he's quick to reassure her. ]

I'm all right. I was just trying to get my powers to work, but I guess there really is no forcing it, huh?

[ It's been so long since he literally had no access to the Keyblade, he's not sure what to do with himself. ]

[vns]

Ah, that one.

[ this is where Gaby's limitations come to light. how she sees the world. what she thinks is important. being around the displaced has changed her perspective, forced her to open her eyes. it's not always easy. or wanted. or any of that. it just is. that's her life now.

she's small picture. always has been. when she talks about the big picture, there's a limitation.

fuck, though. she hates having it highlighted. ]

Imagine the power going out in September here. The whole city just –

[ a snap of her fingers. ]

You think these events are you arriving?

[ she pauses. looks up something. ]

It'd explain why no one can track them. Nothing involved with you is ... normal.

[apathet]

[ the whistle brings her out of herself with a blink. attention turns, seeking out the source just as it (he) speaks, and there's a brief lurch from Laura as she almost makes a frantic lunge for a towel.

but he's already seen. and the last time she was clutching something over her chest it was because the wound had opened and the whole damn cavity was on display. can't follow that up with a precious clasping for modesty. besides, outright asking you get dissected recently is a greater invasion of privacy than accidentally walking in.

that short jolt stopped dead, she settles into one hip and cants her head at him, not even crossing her arms. no sign of discomfort means no sign of weakness, means she can deliver what comes next from a position of fuck you instead of oh fuck. ]

I don't know— did you pay at the door?

[ for the show. ]

[vns]

Maybe.

[ noncommittal, but not because it's a bad idea. it's because she has a hard time seeing what they can do. how can they manage anything in advance? advance of what?

there's over a hundred cities in this world.

how do they know what comes next?]

What do you have in mind?

[apathet]

[ with all her focus on the door, on out, the sudden addition of a voice makes her jump. was she this easy to catch off guard before she died? fuck. ]

Don't— [ a short catch of breath where she very narrowly avoids choking on her own saliva. jesus, is she going to be this much of a rookie at functioning in her own body forever? ] Don't do that.

[vns]

A reset button.

[ that's what she could figure out. Nate was panicked. Gaby wonders how she kept her cool when it hit here. maybe it was reading messages from the displaced leading up. listening to them. putting it together.

a few days in and she was already having to deal with the reality of the unreal. ]

That's not realistic. I can't help but wonder if you all could – I don't know. Bring them hope. Glow a little bit, help them out and heal some wounds. Some of you can do that, can't you?

[resleeves]

Resident underground resistance.

[ because there was always one of those, wasn't there? envoys had been something of the sort though they'd been labeled freedom fighters or terrorists more than anyone called them an underground resistance. but he thinks the concept is similar.

wouldn't it be his fucking luck to fall right back into a place like that? because this definitely isn't the earth he remembers and it's not harlan's world either. ]

United Nations is still around, huh? They still trying to kill everyone that opposes them?

[vns]

If more of you existed, we'd know.

[ "we." not Gaby herself. or civilians. the media would find a way to scrub it. the various police forces would try to stomp it out, stopping any form of vigilante activity. they can't encourage another, silent Morningstar. it would be risky.

no, she means Morningstar. still a firm foundation, which is why they could cut New Amsterdam loose.

she doesn't define who "we" are. ]

I think you being here is more a symptom than a solution. That's my guess.

[ and Gaby is disturbingly small picture. she can't help it. ]

[resleeves]

How lucky a I to be in the presence of such a helpful fucking guide. [ he sighs and leans back against the opposite wall, running a hand over his head and grumbling once more about that. seemed pretty fucking invasive, didn't it? just up and cut a man's hair without even giving him a heads up.

not cool. ]

Why are you trying to help me, sweetheart? [ her name and all. ] Is it just out of the kindness of your heart or is it your job? You're not doing very well so far. I might have to give you low marks on your employee evaluation.

[ he'll get around to the questions in a second. ]

[rehandle]

[ there's a pause. she's asking. and he's not sure what that means - for them, for Morningstar, for New Tokyo. ]

Ever? Sure. Now? Barely.

[ what are you asking, exactly, Gaby? ]

[vns]

[ a look of surprise. more siblings. it feels like they don't stop. well, it's up to El to smooth all of that over. give them a viable story to pass off. ]

The whole siblings thing – it's new.

[ she bothers to explain the surprise. wouldn't want it to be read any other way. ]

Well, new to me. Not to you. It seems a lot of you come in pairs. Maybe not at once, but over time. There's around six to ten of you biweekly, sometimes more. Your group is larger. I'm glad I didn't skimp out on potatoes.

[vns]

Not asking about now. Some of you talk about superheroes and your other lives. You put Morningstar to shame. No wonder you think we drag our feet.

[ general "you." Gaby knows that some of the displaced think they waste their time.

her question, though, was curious. conversational. she didn't mean to put Stephen on edge. ]

They don't know what you get up to. Don't worry. You're more a word of mouth kind of bunch than any of them reading about your petty arguments about coffee shops versus bars and garages. They just – they're desperate. If there was a team, they'd be begging for it.

[batricide]

[ He isn't so sure of that, but he won't argue. Not right now. ]

I'm not so certain. Granted, we know next to nothing so for all we know New Amsterdam could simply be a convenient storage location for every failed attempt.

[ But. ]

But the trend with the displaced leads me to believe it's something else. Nearly all of us are some sort of important force in our own worlds. It's possible that we're weapons waiting to be used, but we could also be a counterforce to whatever the hell is going on.

[arkproject]

[ Not for the first time, Catherine regrets her organic form and how scrambled her brain immediately fails, like the neurons are firing in slow motion. Which she knows neurons can't do. Nothing ever got this muddled and hazy with emotion when she was in a computer.

Nothing made her feel like her throat was tightening or made her fingers go limp, towel and clothes fluttering limply to the tile. ]

... Simon?

[ Because she knows his voice, the only human thing there had been in the rotted corpse of her home when she'd woken up. She suspected Simon thought of her that way, had latched on to her goal to launch the ARK just for that reason, but it went both ways. Catherine was great at staying together while she had something to do. She was always great at that.

But there's not such a clear goal here, nothing for her to try to get home to -- except that one last unfinished piece of business, the thing she hasn't admitted to anyone, not even herself.

Simon. She can't even begin to start unraveling her feelings enough to have a real reaction. ]

[batricide]

You beat the hell out each other until one of you either gives up or passes out.

[ He turns to face Sora a little more, frowning. ]

I don't think you're even old enough to get involved. Forget it.

[rehandle]

[ it's exactly that kind of a history that turns light chat into something else, Stephen obviously deep in thought despite her intentions.

superhero teams, in his time as a fly on the wall, can do more harm than good. whether entirely by accident or in the name of saving the day. but in this case, their existence is already causing the harm. there's a correlation between their appearance and the sudden downturn of events in this world, no doubt, and people pick up the shells of their lives while they bicker amongst themselves, never quite aligned.

if there was a team, they'd be begging for it. ]

There's potential.

[ the idea of separation is - frightening. any section of them committing to team up and travel means admitting that home isn't just around the corner, a matter of time. but this world has burned around them, and there's a debt. ]

And more than enough people itching to remember themselves. Mediated by a few non-hero types, it could happen. Just a morale-booster at first.

[ with something more substantial in the pipeline later, big hitters stationed anywhere that might take a big hit... that's another thought for another day, preferably to be agonised over by another person. in the short term, the magic of mythology goes a long way to lending strength. ]

ii

[inherited]

[It's been a rough day. The lack of control over it is too much. But Riku can't let that get to him. He had once been a kid obsessed with the power to protect people, and he knows that he hasn't lost all of that. Just because he can't draw on dark flames or slip into darkness to end up across a field of battle doesn't mean he can't keep it together. He has to keep a cool head.

His bed isn't far from Jon's. That wasn't intentional. But when he spots him staring off like that, he can't help but—worry? Wonder?

Either way, he has a glass of water in his hand. For himself, sure. But he can pass it off. No problem.]

Here. It looks like you might need this more than me. [The clear glass full of clear liquid is offered between the two of them.]

[inherited]

Believe it or not, it could be a lot worse. [The lack of power is overwhelming. Frustrating. But that's what's new for him. Not the situation. Not anything else. Just lacking power. Riku knows that there's a world order to these things, but the "newbie" guide and everything in it told him that there was none of that to maintain. Well, at least not around the "Displaced." Which is a weird bit of terminology in and of itself.

At least for him.]

I'm guessing this is your first trip outside of your own world.

001

[inherited]

[Checking himself out in the mirror? Trying to make sure he hasn't changed, or been yanked through a timeline, or altered in some way? All of that makes sense. He's done it. What he hasn't done is purposely walk into a bathroom while someone else is doing a similar thing, but in a far more involved fashion.

So, yeah. Riku's eyes widen, not expecting that. He's a teenage boy, but he's not ... this isn't ...]

Sorry!

[And then he's turning, keeping his head down. Some dramatic bit of long silver hair would be nice here. Too bad it's all cut off.]

I, uh.

[He actually just needed to use the bathroom.

Whoops.]

[inherited]

No. And it's not just that that's gone. I can't access the darkness that I've trapped inside of myself. It's all missing. [Speaking of that openly with Sora is easy. Riku's at peace with how he's made darkness his own weapon, and a way of utilizing it against others while it no longer harms him. Taking ownership of something so important to him, something that became a source of strength.

That he could at all—

And now it's gone. Riku doesn't know how to put to words how utterly ... weak he feels. He doesn't like it.

His hand comes to cover the place where the glow happens.]

Every time I try, it hurts more and more. I can't make it stop.

[inherited]

[Riku feels guilty for a second, only then he realizes that whatever he's being snapped at for? It probably doesn't exist. He was just giving her some advice. Sure, he could've left her alone, but why let her waste her time?]

I'll try to announce myself better next time.

[Better to assume that's it.]

You're acting like someone who's trapped.