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

i;

[reneger]

( it's not jason that kovacs' shoves, but he's close enough to catch what happens. watches him snatch the beer out of someone's hand, watches them skitter back before moving away (thankfully, god, they don't need another murder situation happening this soon) and he. watches for just a moment longer.

before deciding the only way to handle this is clearly to trail right behind kovacs himself, being very obvious as he tails him to wherever the hell else he's going to go to steal drinks off of passerbys.

jason's not massive but he is large. and makes himself look bigger, like he's trying to fucking gain kovacs' attention. stays within sight out of the corner of his eye, makes it clear he's watching by keeping eyes on him. just to see what kind of shit this asshole really is. he has a beer in his own hand, takes a few sips of it every few moments. )

[larkers]

Dream 003!

[larkers]

Dream 001!

[vns]

A team? I don't know.

[ Gaby rolls over Nate's questions. can they send someone? can someone come out and protect the city from more harm?

what if another one comes?

well, if you won't send them, then what about something from your stores.

hence the resources.

hence ... ]

That's a thing, though, isn't it? A team?

[ she's genuinely asking. ]

[lighthearted]

[ To be fair to both of them, it's not so surprising that they didn't find each other among the hectic throngs of people in Oktoberfest, on top of the confusing nature of their arrival and whatever was in their systems. Sora had also been brought here not too long after someone found him, cautioning that he shouldn't be outside until he was registered and had an ID.

Whatever that meant.

What he's been able to gather so far is that there are a group of people who arrived here in the same way as him, and that this safehouse is meant to take in any new arrivals. It's not encouraging to find out that some have been in this city for so long. Sora's used to moving through worlds like a whirlwind, but he doesn't have access to his usual people or resources here.

Or that's what he thinks, until he hears a familiar voice and feels a comforting touch at his shoulder. Relief floods through him as he spins around, face brightening as he confirms that Riku's really here. ]

Riku! [ Sora reaches out to grip both of his shoulders, giving him a good shake. ] Boy, am I glad to see you.

[ It doesn't take long for that initial excitement to fade away into concern, though. Sora had figured he ended up here because of his journey to save Kairi, though he doesn't know exactly how it would have come about. (That card Luxord had given him, maybe?) But if that's the case, then Riku shouldn't be here. ]

But... how? [ He tilts his head, frowning. ] Did you come after me?

[vns]

Do you understand?

[ not aggressive, just – part of Gaby's double life involves reading a lot of squabbling, a lot of conversations. she's used to it.

she just also knows they're in the dark. ]

The monsters got people sick, ergo causality, causation. Whichever is the right word.

[ she waves a hand. ]

You hit the mark twice.

[ general you. ]

[vns]

Rough few hours. And here I thought that the "rough" part would be dealing with newcomers with hangovers.

[ because, again, she worked it out. brought food, but also drink. she was ready. fuck, she even called off her other job – not that people tend to frequent bars during Oktoberfest. that's the thing. all the drinking goes on elsewhere so those joints are dead.

it wasn't a hard sell.

but here she is, wishing she was working. wishing ... she could pretend the world wasn't going to shit. ]

It'll pass.

[ a shake of her head. ]

What is it?

markus | dbh

[saviorexe]

oktoberfest.

[He’s here under the usual obligation, of course: to keep his eyes on the crowd for newcomers, telltale signs of compliance and clothes to match El’s description. ("Blue shirts, all around.") But as before, it’s hard to ignore the festivities when it’s all abuzz around him, smelling of beer and sounding of yodeling, practically encased in warm bodies as he tries to navigate the crowd. Attention pulled this way and that, and in time even Markus finds himself distracted by any number of activities.

Such as:]

A. [An empty stage, begging for attention. Markus doesn’t shy from the proverbial spotlight, but rare is the instance in which he seeks it purposefully — in fact, today is no different, instead looking to someone standing nearby, gesturing up at the stage with fingers clamped loosely around a half-empty bottle of beer with an impressively designed label.]

Looks like your chance to gain some notoriety, if you wanted. Go ahead, I’ll even tag you on Cooltalk.

[He’ll do it, too. But he’s not quick to volunteer himself, either.]

B. [Are you an unfortunate soul, stuffed into a Bavarian outfit that’s either two sizes too big or two sizes too small, forced to work diligently at Oktoberfest? Well, Markus can’t relate, but he certainly can sympathize. It’s impossibly warm, impossibly crowded, and he can only imagine the frayed nerves of those employed and currently present.]

So what can I do to make your life easier? [—he asks, wearing a sorry smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he approaches, but the offer is sincere enough.]

C. [Seated at a table, utterly surrounded by potato dishes and a small collection of craft beers. How did he end up with so much? How is he supposed to eat all of this? It’s a mystery and he probably can’t — he might need a little help.]

we're lucky we're not cyborgs. (closed to fitz)

[It becomes inevitable that he soon spots a familiar face at a distance, therefore closing that space with the stride of a man with something to say. Markus bumps shoulders with a handful of people along the way, but he’s ignored as much as he ignores them, and soon the android approaches Fitz with a small grin, having to raise a usually soft-spoken voice to be heard over the festivities.]

Still sober enough to walk?

[It’s question delivered as a joke, referencing the beer the other has clasped in his hand, though the label is currently unseen or obscured from Markus' angle.]

I’m getting hungry; maybe you want to find a bite to eat?

mission impossible theme. (closed to daisy)

[The celebrity tents don’t allow just anyone to walk in, a cluster of them erected in the middle of the festival, large and impossible to miss. It’s that kind of the display that invites temptation for those looking to get into trouble (or at least those harboring a burning, stubborn curiosity), like an affliction that assails any meandering nearby.

Markus is no stranger to sneaking into places deemed off-limits; doing so here would be far less complicated (and far less dangerous) than any site he slipped into under shadow or daylight both, back in Detroit with comrades at his side. Yet he has only a passing interest these tents — maybe inclined to afford a peek inside and little else — when there’s no clear goal to accomplish, other than kicking up mischief for mischief’s sake.

He can’t say the same for Daisy, though. He can already see the gears turning in her head, as they stand just outside the perimeter of a large tent looming overhead.]

I’m going to say it preemptively; I don’t know if it’s a good idea.

wildcard option.

[I'm flexible! Hit me up at aurajen if you want to hash something out!]

b.

[lighthearted]

[ Sora hears someone struggling to leave the safehouse, fighting with the door, and then ultimately giving up. The only reason he doesn't join and try to help is because he's made his own attempts, and all of the people who've been here longer than them have told them that there's no point, and they'll be allowed to leave in a few days.

A few days stuck in such a small space with so many other people isn't the easiest thing for some of them, he can tell. Sora's already decided to take the chance to get to know the people who are trapped in this situation with him and Riku.

He doesn't have to take the first step in this case, though, as the man asks him a question from his cot, which he'd retreated to after being defeated by the door.

Sora sits up from his own cot, cross-legged, and stares at the stranger for a few seconds. ]

Uh... what's that?

keith | voltron | ota

[secondnature]

a. stupid costumes!

[Today sucks.

Okay, every New Amsterdam party is the worst. Stupid costumes. Stupid conventions. Stupid everything.

But this one is the worst. Thanks to the desire to seem festive, Keith's cab company has one thing that's hidden within the employee handbook that's sent to everyone once they join. They get freedom to do what they need to do, to drive how they want to drive, and in how to answer and respond to customers. The catch ... the catch is apparently this. Three days of a stupid costume, also while sitting outside of the main Oktoberfest areas and waiting.

Because they actually have stricter hours during that time.

And they have to actually ... get the attention of the customers.

So, yeah. Here's Keith, a twenty-two-year-old pilot—a freaking paladin of Voltron!—standing in shorts that are too short, bunching up around the crotch, with socks that come up just beneath his knees. And suspenders. And an ugly white shirt.]

Does anyone want a ride home? You get a ten percent discount and no risk of being caught in a terrible accident. [Yes, that's Keith reading out his script. Loudly. But flatly.

He hates this so much.]

b. lightweight, part one: searching

[There's a reason why Keith doesn't drink. It's partly because he doesn't like having his senses messed with, and partly because he had a drink alllllll the way back in his time at the Garrison, and it went horribly. He's a lightweight of the worst kind, so two high ABV IPAs? That's going to wreck him. What about three? Keith is having a hard time.

So ... here's Keith, still in the same stupid costume but off work, looking around for new displaced. The problem is? There are a lot of people in blue shirts.

He walks up to someone who is definitely not one of the displaced, and gets into their face.]

You have to tell me if you're on drugs. I guess I'll know if you listen to me. [The guy he's bothering? Well, he's not happy about Keith getting up in his face, and gives him a hard shove back.]

c. lightweight, part two: cool ... talk?

[Somehow, someway, Keith makes it back to the safehouse, but he's still pretty gone. Has he drank more since then? Probably. But he did throw a growler full of the anti-cyborg beer on the ground along the way. Cyborgs are friends—or so says the Voltron pilot who's loved both of his lions (especially since one of them kept his best friend alive).

Anyway ... he's diligently working on a project in the kitchen when someone walks in. If it weren't for his red cheeks, he might seem like any broody guy just sitting with crossed arms.

But Keith ... is definitely not just brooding.]

Come here! I wanna show you what I'm working on. [Though he's having a hard time figuring out how to grant someone permissions to what he's looking at, and frowns in consternation before long. (Though, if it's someone very new, he likely can't.)]

d. wildcard

[Drunk Keith will be playing VR games and walking around in the worst clothes in the world. I'm genuinely open to anything, so go for it or drop me a message through PMs.]

[saviorexe]

[Markus doesn't put much stock in a phrase like "it'll pass". He knows from experience it can be an empty promise told to oneself — the epitome of wishful thinking — in order to pretend the rest of the day will be less of a headache, less of a strain. He sympathizes; though at her question, broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.]

Just looking to put these back in their proper places.

[The kits, he means. He knows that’s not what she asked, but the assumption that he’s come looking for her with a stringent purpose is… telling, probably, of her expectations.]

Helping when I can. That extends to wanting to know what’s expected of us as a group, after what’s happened in New Tokyo.

[Yes, he overheard a little.]

i.

[evite]

[ why are men? that's it, that's the subtweet — a particularly poignant one as she watches some presumably drunk asshole shove a different drunk asshole in order to ... what? steal his beer?

do they not have anything better to do? it's not like the beer is that expensive. shit, daisy's already considered texting rey to meet her here so they can haul a twenty-four pack back to the safehouse for the new arrivals. because there will be new arrivals, whether tonight or tomorrow or some day in the future, and they'll appreciate it.

but el's message had come through, and so she'd curbed any thoughts of gifts to the side while project rescue went back into action. or it would have been curbed by rescuing damsels in distress, if it hadn't been for mr brute force sticky fingers over there. he might be a damsel, but he's an obnoxious one. ]

Dude! [ oh yeah, he heard her. ] Hold up.

[ and since he's unable to ignore her, she watches with smug satisfaction when he careens to a stop. ]

You need to give that back.

a.

[evite]

[ oh, look. a man in bad fitting denim and a questionably grease-stained blue shirt. he's either a grease monkey on an off day like rey or a newly arrived member of the ever-expanding freaks like me lineup — only one way to find out.

as his hand reaches towards her food (which, yes, she is going to eat), daisy retorts back with a deadpan: ] Stop right there, slick.

[thwipandrelease]

[his comment had mostly been him spit-balling out loud, without expectation of reply. he certainly hadn't been envisioned a young man — was he just a magnet for teenagers now? — with big eyes looking at him like he'd said something in a foreign language.

for the uninitiated, he supposed it could be one. no sense in blaming the kid. peter props himself up on an elbow to get a better look at sora.]

Oh. Hey kid. Super collider. You know. Turn it on. Smash subatomic particles at each other. Tear apart the space-time continuum.

[he hopes that's easy enough to understand and he doesn't have to resort to physical aids and metaphors.]

[evite]

[ daisy's a hacker to her core, an exploiter of opportunities — and this? this is an opportunity. even before she'd joined rising tide, back when her name had been four letters alone in lieu of the horrible three-word alternative the foster system had bequeathed upon her, she'd been scrappy. a handsy petty thief, a charming liar, a manipulator of social engineering who had snuck her way into any place that might offer something worth having.

a free room for the night at a swanky hotel? of course. claiming to be the concerned daughter of the convention's very drunk attendee currently swaying on his barstool as he argues with other guests makes for a very swift issuance of a key card in thanks. this tent should be no more difficult — especially considering there's no one actually guarding the entrance. ]

It's fine. The worst thing they could do is kick us out. [ bruised pride, maybe, but they can't get arrested. ] Nobody's going to look at you and argue that you're somebody, and in this?

[ daisy gestures to her getup, a markus pick that's served her well. she feels great. looks great, too. ]

It would really be a shame to waste this killer outfit.

[laozu]

dreAM ME!

003.

[gasping]

[ caroline doesn't need to eat potatoes, per se — she needs to feed. eating actual food is a great way to curb her cravings for the things she does actually need to eat, though, so while it's not a long-term solution, it's one she dives into with gusto.

hope laura moon is okay with a new friend settling in across from her, snacking on an unreasonably high platter of thick-cut steakhouse style fries. (chips. if you must. who knows what laura calls them. caro calls them fries.) ]

Oh, my god. [ yeah, they're pretty good. or maybe she's just really hungry. ] Is it just me, or are these, like, crack good?

[ it's probably not just you, caroline ]

002

[reneger]

( jason never lingers in the safehouse for long anymore.

he stops in, checks on the new arrivals, takes note of any faces he may recognize and gets the hell out of dodge. he's been--talked to is a nice way of putting it. antagonized. told he shouldn't be around because he's got a short fuse and no one wants the responsibility along with that. he doesn't give a shit about the safehouse. but it means his searches have to be a bit more thorough and a bit more quick.

which means checking the goddamn showers too. he's fully dressed when he steps inside the room, makes a quick glance around and. stops to whistle. not of the catcalling variety, but the high pitched that tempers down lower kind. enough to gain attention. )

You get dissected recently?

[thwipandrelease]

[he'd wanted that sausage. he knows he did, but peter finds it the most natural thing in the world to simply let his hand fall to his side. daisy's meal is safe it seems.]

Food's all yours, but your face kind of looked like it was saying something that your voice wasn't. Just an observation.

[resleeves]

Junior, are you going to say something or are you just going to undress me with your fucking eyes?

[ even if jason hadn't been obvious about things, kovacs probably would have picked up the tail eventually. he might look like he's dumb as a bunch of fucking rocks but he's had some pretty extensive training to make sure he's not just a pretty face.

but he's a really goddamn pretty face when he wants to be. thank you elias ryker for dying and not wrecking your body in the process. ]

Can I help you with something or are you just going to fucking stare? Gotta tell you, it's making me a tad uncomfortable.

[ it wasn't but he could fuckin fake it. ]

[resleeves]

[ he stops. he hadn't meant to fucking stop but he stops when someone actually tells him to stop and what the hell is causing that? when she comes into view, the woman with the words, he glares and wants to ask how she'd done that but she's already firing off more words and making it fucking impossible not to listen. ]

You some sort of fucking witch?

[ he'd wanted that beer, goddammit. didn't he deserve it after all the shit he'd just been through. didn't people want him to be fucking happy? of course not, that's impossible. ]

I wanted that beer.

[reneger]

Kinda prefer undressing you with my eyes, if we're being honest here. ( a slow, slow smirk spreads across his lips. crinkles the corners of his eyes, but it's obvious from his fucking face that it's just. a natural expression for him. the sly twist to his lips, the teasing look in his eyes.

his voice gets lower as he steps in just a bit closer, like he's working to keep a secret but not trying as hard as he could be. lets his tone twist to be just that much more sultry. )

Guy like you in a place like this, wearing that? You sure you're not lost?

( definitely seems like one of theirs, from first glance. blue shirt. hair cut messily. stealing goddamn beers like theft is a perfectly acceptable crime (it is, just not here) to be committing in broad night-light. )

cassian andor | rogue one

[evasives]

( a ) arrival / oktoberfest

[ there is nothing about this that cassian likes. even in the haze of whatever drugs he's on, his brain is fighting to regain control. he immediately stumbles towards the nearest wall to at least shield his back while he tries to get his bearings after unceremoniously being abandoned by the people inside the van. it's been Quite A Time. ]

[ he should not be able to stand against the wall, he realizes, or stand upright at all. the last thing he remembers is broken bones and blaster burns, but as far as he can tell, it's all been cured. was he put in some sort of bacta tank? he presses a hand into his back and feels... nothing, no pain at all. his hair is shorter than he last remembers, beard too neatly trimmed. he needs to get out of this alley, he needs to know what planet he's on. there's some sort of party nearby, and he follows after the sounds of it. ]

[ any offers of alcohol are immediately brushed off, not even politely. it's just a quick and firm: ] No.

[ cassian learns quickly that this is called oktoberfest, but the name tells him nothing. most festivals are full of drinking and the occasionally reckless activity, and he's trying very hard to get a read on the culture from it. beer seems to be the whole point, how boring.]

[ it's impossible to completely hide the effects of sedation, but he does his best!! it's not too shabby, and if he shoulder checks someone, it's only half on accident. most of the people here seem to be too drunk to be useful, but maybe he can glean bits and pieces. he does his best to sound friendly and not lost even though his clothes are a much bigger giveaway, but he doesn't want to make himself a target. ] Recommendations? Alcoholic or otherwise?

( b ) safehouse

[ so. there's a safehouse, for new arrivals. cassian supposes he did arrive in a vehicle with several others, all of which he lost when he escaped into the party. he should have kept better tabs, but he was more concerned about getting himself to safety. and the morning after, he mostly feels himself again, whatever was in his system completely worn off. ]

[ he would very much like to leave this safehouse, but he supposes it's a good place to put his ear to the ground with the people who come and go. his chosen bed is in a corner, tucked against a wall. he hates communal living in general, hasn't had to share a space with anyone in a few years, but it's not like he isn't used to sleeping in stranger and more dangerous locations when he wasn't on base. ]

[ he scrolls through the network as best he can from his little corner. he rummages through the kitchen, stock full of food, but he doesn't seem to be looking for something to eat. he's snooping around the safehouse, but in such an innocuous, unobtrusive way that he comes across like a lost newbie - which he is at the same time, so it's not that much of a stretch, and he wants people to tell him things. he watches carefully and casually, noting frequent visitors versus the more temporarily permanent, mostly by their clothes and better upkeep. with a purposefully faint dramatic sigh, he'll get someone's attention who doesn't look like they're sleeping on a cot. ] Hey, tell me, is the outside world still there?

[ it becomes easier to recognize who else is newer, least of all because it's the people who are here day after day like him. so when he finishes up making a cup of coffee in the kitchen, he decides he can try and make conversation with his fellow hostages new arrivals, gesturing with his cup. ] At least there is caf.

( c ) wildcard

[ wild card me!! random scenario! ota ]

for sansa

[larkers]

Mobile is rough!

Dream 001!

[larkers]

Dream 001!