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]

[ her hands lift as quickly as they'd latched on, arms crossing loosely over her chest as she steps back to settle against the wall. she could tell him to relax, loosen the command — but he's still being a jerk, so. ]

If you'd read what I sent you, you'd know the answer to that already. [ newbie guide is very helpful. she wrote the section on the empathy bond, she should know. ] But you were too busy running your mouth, weren't you?

[ has she made her point? ]

Just relax for, like, five seconds and let me actually help you, please?

[ there. he can breathe, he can move. and she even threw in a please. she's so nice and generous with those. ]

[selfimage]

[ WOW JYN, you never know when the god of chaos and revolutions is going to show up, even if he's dressed kinda nice. you don't need to look bad showing up to the revolt. ]

It's not thread barren and far too large for comfort.

[ a pause, he sees that look. ]

What? I thought I'd offer up some words of encouragement for when you're finally free of this basement dwelling.

[arkproject]

[ That's not what he meant? Then what did he mean? Because it seems impossible to pretend nothing happened, much as Catherine would like to. Or rather, to pretend that they launched the ARK, and nothing else happened. She trusted Simon as much as he'd trusted her. Or... as much as she'd thought he trusted her. So much of their experience hustling through PATHOS-II seems like it's getting rewritten in her mind.

She hates the way her breathing is unsteady, and she looks uncertain straight up until he touches her arm, and then her eyes widen at the rush of guilt. Catherine doesn't feel guilt very often, largely because she throws herself wholesale at everything she does, and is more confused and hurt when things don't work out than anything else. The desperate relief, twisted in among everything else despite how they'd left off, that she recognizes. The confusion and insecurity -- she's feeling better now, a couple weeks in, but not great. The chasm of grief is something she hasn't managed to leave behind, either; she's just fighting it down better than Simon is. Its immensity and rawness as it rises up in her again startles her.

... Wait.

It's just a few seconds after Simon touches her arm that this all finishes processing, and then Catherine jerks away, taking a halting step back. ] Okay, well, let's try to use our words, because I'm having a hard enough time having my own feelings, Simon! I don't need yours!

[ She sounds as off-kilter as her breathing, frustrated and unmoored, but she's still quick-thinking enough to realize how little sense this makes to someone newly arrived. ] Look -- if you touch me, we can share feelings. I don't know how. Something with our neural implants, probably. So-- please don't.

[ At least she's still as plain and straightforward as ever. ]

[arkproject]

[ Well, that sure sounds crazy.

Fortunately, this is Catherine, so she makes a long blink and then just rolls with it. He's definitely not any harder to accept than the WAU-activated personality template shoved in a corpse in a diving suit that she'd met. Simon had been a real person to her from the first word. Compared to that, she can accept this incomprehensible nonsense. ]

Ohkay, well, you probably can't. There's a lot that's different here. [ Catherine makes this sound no-nonsense and unthreatening. Just a fact of life. ] You're new, right? What's your name? I'm Catherine.

[ This is a nice, normal, orienting question. ]

[selfimage]

[ it's definitely a spectacle, and he can appreciate the art of improvisation, but there were a few things that they could not afford right now. perhaps later, but certainly not now. even if he's gotten better at going with the flow in the last lifetime or so, but he still knows when it's good to keep it under the radar.

it's a good way of getting Wei off stage, in any case. ]

Yes—hello. Let's not get cocky, just because I accepted your offer doesn't make me a fan, it's the delivery that counts.

[ a pause. ]

Though it's customary to introduce yourself before you ask someone else for their name. [ he's just being an asshat now. regardless of what he just said: ] I'm Loki. Well-met and all other extended pleasantries.

day one

[drivein]

[ it's hard to be pulled into a new place, and Jughead didn't take it well—he's still not taking it well, but he's learned to deal with what he was dealt. he's adaptable enough. despite all of that, he's taking a page out of Keith's book. with a greasy bag in hand, he comes down the ladder and gets a good look at all the newcomers (with a shred, a shred of hope that he wish he didn't have. Archie, Veronica and possibly ... Betty ... did not deserve this.)

maybe brooding people just find one another, and that's what draws him her way. ]

Hey.

[ and he sits next to her, holds up the bag. there's food in it. ]

Hungry for something that hasn't been sitting on a shelf and mummifying for twelve years?

[ it's an exaggeration, but he delivers it flawlessly. ]

[realists]

[ sounds fake, look like a gremlin or your revolution is a farce ]

And you thought clothes was the way to go instead of, say, relative freedom of movement and privacy?

[ she continues to make that face. ]

[gasping]

[ it's not fair how good hot food smells right now. as much as caroline wants to continue soaking in her cocoon of self-pity, the food smells better, so she (begrudgingly) sits up, pushing the blankets off her faded pink scrubs-clad legs and onto a pile at the edge of the bed. ]

Starving, actually. [ bad joke, given her general paleness, but it's a sincerely made one. ] What's on the menu?

[ she's regrettably already been clued into the state of no-meat affairs, thanks to rey, but she doesn't know what constitutes acceptable alternatives. don't steer her wrong, new friend. ]

[laozu]

[ the microphone still in hand, he slips off the edge of the stage ( those who have turned up to watch a fool put on a show bemoaning the loss of their entertainment -- muttering elusively among themselves: who is he? i can't find anything about him! ) and practically into the "awaiting" arms of the one who's come to pick him up. ]

What's there not to be a fan of! [ he wonders, smile splashed across his face. mad and bright and heedless of it all

he even gives a spin, to show off his shorn hair, the jeans and blue shirt. it's nothing impressive, but he must find it so, if he's modeling the rags he's been thrust into, the world he's been tipped into being nothing short of generous and wicked in the same breath. a name is given, a name is requested in return and wei wuxian tips the microphone back towards his mouth, chest expanding as though about to deliver one hell of a statement -- loudly -- to all that are around to hear it. oh dear. ]

[lighthearted]

[ It doesn't surprise Sora at all that other people came across the same problem as him. It's just that some of them have been here longer, and already learned the hard way to not push it when it came to trying to tap into their abilities.

Even if Sora may have learned that lesson, that doesn't mean that it won't continue to be a problem. Calling his Keyblade to him is something that comes as easily as breathing, practically. How's he supposed to suddenly turn that off?

He could discuss that with the stranger, but there's something much more important to point out.

Sora's head tilts up a little, and he doesn't make much of an effort to hide that he's staring. ]

Your... ears...

[lighthearted]

[ Sora lets out a pained groan, blinking a few times as he recovers from the onslaught of pain and exhaustion. His chest still feels tender and the glow is visible through the thin shirt he's wearing (the best the safehouse had to offer). He looks over at the man who's come to his aid. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine.

[ He doesn't know these people, and he doesn't want them to think that he's weak or not able to take care of himself. He leans back to sit on his butt, taking a few more seconds to catch his breath. ]

I was trying to use my powers, but... I guess they really are gone.

[lighthearted]

[ Sora hadn't just been able to take everyone's word for it. That might have been the smarter choice, but he still had to try for himself. He's going to end up accidentally trying to call his Keyblade as an instinct anyway, so maybe it's for the best that he got to know what it felt like. Next time he won't push so hard, at least.

The girl shakes her head at him, and from the look in her eyes, it's like she's trying to tell him something. But he's able to pay attention this time, and she doesn't say a word.

Sora frowns, tilting his head to one side and then the other. ]

Are you okay? Can you not talk?

[lighthearted]

Hmm...

[ Sora's not entirely sure what he needs, but learning how to fight without the Keyblade seems like a good idea. If he can be sure of one thing about this place, it's that he'll probably end up in a situation where he needs to fight. Isn't that always how it is? ]

Like I said, I've fought lots before. So I know how to do that, I just usually have my Keyblade. I don't think it'd be too hard to learn.

[ Another pause, and Sora smiles. ]

How do I sign up?

[lighthearted]

[ Whether or not this guy would say something or rat him out, Sora doesn't feel a pressing need to try alcohol. He's got a lot of bigger issues on his mind right now.

When he gets the okay to take some of the apricot, Sora's face brightens and he reaches to take a piece. ] Hey, thanks! [ He takes a step back and then bites into the dried fruit, eyes briefly closing as he enjoys the flavor.

After chewing a few bites, he turns his attention to the stranger again. Mouth still somewhat full, he asks: ] How long have you been here?

[evasives]

[ the bitter bean juice is LIFESAVING ok! it's not his fault he drinks at least two cups a day, usually more. ]

Surgery for hair growth? [ he tries hard not to make a face. ] You can always get a wig while you wait for it to grow back. I am not sure reattaching hair is a skill anywhere.

[ oh. oh he does not understand this level of technology. ] Neural, related to the brain. Transmitter, something that enables communication usually via two devices. It is what they placed in our heads and enables the information to pass directly from person to person, rather than through something like - a radio, or a commlink. Does any of that make sense?

[lighthearted]

[ Someone they left behind? Yeah, that's probably true, if only because everyone has someone they're close to. Sora doesn't like knowing that there are so many people who've been taken from their homes against their will like this. Even if he's a part of that group, he feels an obligation to help everyone. Riku's right there with him, too. It's their job, Keyblade or not.

When Peter gives his name, Sora's eyes widen a little and he returns the smile. ]

Nice to meet you too, Peter! I have another friend with that name. [ Yes, another friend, because he's already decided that this Peter is his friend too. He's much older than Peter Pan, but that doesn't deter Sora in the slightest.

At the question, he stands from his cot, spinning to face Peter where he's still sitting. ]

Yeah, kinda! I'm not used to being held in one place like this. Do you have an idea for how we can pass the time?

[evasives]

[ black coffee is the best kind!! cassian will drink literally any kind, but he's very used to the not-so-premium blends. that is life on rations! ]

[ he gestures towards the cabinet. ] It has not been ransacked fully yet.

[ the simple solution to a knife, however, is just to steal one from the kitchens. which cassian has already done, shh. ] I prefer mine black, but there may be flavors or creams, I have not looked.

[lighthearted]

[ The question does give Sora something to focus on other than the fading pain in his chest. There's still a blue glow, though that's also slowly fading. He doesn't know what the strange light is, but he knows it's not quite like the light he's used to. ]

Hi, Catherine. I'm Sora. And... yeah, I guess I'm new.

[ He draws his hand through his hair, still way too short than what he's used to, and lets out a heavy breath. ]

People told me that our old powers don't work here, but I had to try it for myself. Did you lose something too?

[ Maybe it's not the same for everyone, but Sora's use of the Keyblade had been such a large part of his life and his purpose. Being without it just feels wrong. ]

[saviorexe]

[He nods.]

You shouldn't have to be. There are others here to fill that gap when you need it.

[As if to make a point, he steps forward and towards the first aid room, remembering his initial task before he found himself engaged in conversation with a tired Gaby.]

Do what you need to do. I'll be around if you want to discuss more on New Tokyo later.

[evasives]

I have been told we tend to arrive in a pattern, usually during city events. Eight seems like quite a lot. [ multiverse kidnapping is terrible but he is choosing not to think about the terribleness of it, sweeping that aside in favor of doing his goddamn best to be analytical about everything. it makes it easier. he's been kidnapped, has no memory of the time it took for his should-be fatal wounds to heal, and is now on a planet he didn't know exist, may not even be the same galaxy or universe as his own. ]

[ yeah, definitely better to just focus on getting all the facts instead of anything else! ]

[ he knows how to do that part though - he can build a cover, just as soon as he knows more about this world he's supposed to be blending in with. that part is easier too, to think of it like a cover rather than an actual life. ]

What is it that makes Morningstar want to help us?

[theseuschip]

[ It doesn’t take long for Simon to identify where the sudden deluge of anger and frustration, and hurt, is coming from, since it feels like... well, a deluge, and “touch person, get brain invaded” is sort of a familiar process. Datamining didn’t let him download emotions. It was nothing near this scale. But the feeling of having something sent directly to your mind is pretty distinct. He yanks his hand away almost simultaneously as she does, deer-in-headlights. The waning compliance drug doesn’t even need to step in. ] Christ—

[ He’d never really thought of Catherine as vulnerable. Not when he felt so helpless, and her presence filled an entire room, and when Simon’s attempts to coax emotional candor out of her usually yielded either a cagey joke or one of her unflinchingly pragmatic hot takes that he found totally alien and thought couldn’t possibly be the real answer.

And now they’re both time-traveling refugees, and he has to look down to meet her eyes, and for a few moments he could feel what he now processes as the wounds he inflicted.

His remaining hand is still raised like a pledge to not touch her and apparently send her a sadness virus. His eyes dart, chest rising and falling like a prey animal, trying to order all of this in his head. At least she had a very blunt explanation of what the hell just happened. That’s almost a comforting return to form. Voice rising, with Simon Hysteria instead of anger: ] I am trying, but somebody cut my brain open and dumped me in an alley!

[ He steps backward, as if his anxiety needs physical room allocated to it, and runs a hand through his hair. It’s disorienting and unsatisfying now considering what they did to it. ] Let’s sit down. Somewhere else. Uh, the storage room.

[wiccant]

Uh. ( holding both his hands up because oops, where does he go from here? billy doesn't know. ) Yes? Kind of. Maybe? No, no I don't think so.

( that sounds better. now that he's closer, he definitely, definitely sees how different peter is than the one he remembers. is he older or just living like a hobo, billy can't really tell. )

I mean, you're kind of a big deal. A lot of people know of you.

[theseuschip]

[ Wow, no kidding. Not that he’s an obstacle, although this place feels more crowded, more of a shock to the system, than it should to a city-dweller. The guy is a towering giant, though.

His question would be a pretty confusing response to Simon’s opener if he were operating under the correct assumption that being from centuries in the past is normal, but in his previous experience with (not-really) time travel, he was the only one.

So he just assumes he’s asking for a history lesson. He looks up, his remaining hand, still struggling to accept that it has no role in this activity, raised with fingers half-curled in front of the brain-screen. ] I mean, we had digital ones, but the paper kind still existed. Might be a few left in museums.

[ man. no more books. ] I miss analog already.

[blyat]

Uh, like a month or two? Haven't really been counting.

[That aside, the dates feel more ambiguous on the night schedule enforced by New Amsterdam in aversion to the scalding heat of sunlight. But that's nothing new. There was no day or night in space -- just the transition of lights meant to simulate a regular schedule.]

You seem pretty chill. Most people come in here moody and freaking out about this whole thing. [He waves a hand to indicate their surroundings.] You know, chip in their head, autonomy gone, whatever. What's your name?

[reneger]

( it's a vague nonanswer which just makes jason all the more suspicious. he pauses to take a breath, lets it out through his lips before he's dropping down onto knees beside caroline. non threatening. he's lower than her, his shoulders are loose, eyes a lot kinder than when he wears his normal snarky expression. it almost doesn't quite match, but. )

Help what? You can talk to me. ( jason wouldn't say shit if it was the other way around. he does lighten his voice a little. tries to be softer. if she is sick, it's better to know now than later. if it is a--narco addiction, better to know about it now than figure it out later. )

This place's a bit more advanced than what most people are useful. Anything that can be fixed with medical attention probably already has been.