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- !arrival log,
- dark angel: max guevara,
- dogs b&c: nill,
- game of thrones: sansa stark,
- gangsta: alex benedetto,
- gdc: wei wuxian,
- kingdom hearts: riku,
- kingdom hearts: sora,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- mcu: leo fitz,
- mcu: peggy carter,
- spider verse: peter b parker,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- starfighter: cain,
- the vampire diaries: caroline forbes,
- voltron: keith
ARRIVAL LOG 008
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
laura moon . american gods
𝚘𝚘𝟷
[ she's off the vehicle and she's not sticking around. what the fuck. what the fuck. this isn't Kentucky. this isn't even fucking Wisconsin. this isn't anywhere - this isn't anywhere she was or was going to be. the first few minutes are a daze, and in that daze she stalks off towards the light, towards the clink of cups, the blur of noise, answers.
there are no answers. there's a party, people fucking everywhere, but no answers. and as she shoves her way into those crowds, on the hunt for somebody in particular, and the heat of the dying day and the bodies everywhere have her shirt quickly sweatstuck to her skin, she hisses, ] Fuck, it's warm.
[ ... fuck.
it's warm.
she's warm.
as warm becomes all she can feel (all she can feel, she can feel) her legs stop working in the middle of a milling sea of drunks and soon-to-be drunks. so it's really no surprise that somebody walks right into her. ]
𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎.
𝚘𝚘𝟸 (warning: sfw nudity & scarring in image)
[ this is it. this is the best shower she's had in her life. water has never felt so good. nothing has ever felt so good. (it's a longer shower than the current water situation really allows for, but if anyone wants to try telling her that, they can feel free and see where it gets them).
when she's done, she steps out into the bathroom and finds herself face to face with - herself. in the mirror. skin pink, not grey.
the next person to walk in will find a small woman standing naked, dripping wet, watching herself hover her fingers over the long-healed scars where her organs were once removed. no longer held together with sutures, the skin under her fingers alive and aware. ]
𝚘𝚘𝟹.
[ did you want some of Gaby's oktoberfest offerings? better hurry your shit up. Laura Moon can eat now and it's only going to last so long.
or at least, that's the attitude she approaches the potato dishes with when she first encounters them. she piles her plate high, carries herself off to a table, shoves the first bite in her mouth... and positively melts. her face is doing some things that could make a person blush given the right context.
the potatoes are good, but are they really that good? regardless, she's taking her time with every bite from here on in. ]
𝚘𝚘𝟺
[ the coast appears to be clear of staff, and Laura's making a break for freedom. a break that doesn't get her very far with an IDless implant, and she's left hissing angrily at the hatch - ]
Come the fuck on, you shitty thing. Come on. Fuck.
𝚘𝚘𝟻.
[ laying on her bed, a bunk claimed down one end of a row with the two either side also bagsied by the jeans and shirt she arrived in, Laura stares up into space. into, in reality, the network and an internet that goes on forever. trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, what the fuck it means, and how. ]
( ooc: also happy to write individual starters or respond to wildcards either pre-safehouse or in the safehouse! Laura's autopsy scars won't be readily viewable outside of prompt 2, but the scar from the reattachment of her arm is on display most of the time if anyone's characters are detail seekers. please feel free to come at me @
003
there's no shortage of seats, but he ought to make nice with the rest of the safehouse's residents, which is why he plunks down at same table. after shoveling a forkful in his mouth, he offers this nugget of unsolicited commentary.]
You doing okay there? Should I leave you alone with your potatoes?
[he probably should've at least waited until he'd finished swallowing, though. gross.]
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[ 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. ]
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nor was there a page on how to deal with this. oh well. he'd just have to charge ahead full steam. but first, another potato bites the dust.]
I like the small pleasures in life too, but if the only thing that's been given to you is potatoes, I gotta wonder how you drew the short end of the stick.
At least add a pizza into the mix or something.
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[ maybe if they threw in a pizza it'd soften the blow. but really, these potatoes are - something else. enough something else that she doesn't care much what she's saying or how close she ought or ought not to be keeping it to her chest. who's going to listen to a potato-scoffing woman talking about leprechauns anyway?
another potato down... and she just can't stop her fist from scrunching in delight. ] —Oh my God that's good.
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003.
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 ]
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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.
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Definitely not. [ maybe it's an unfortunate side effect of being the deuteragonist in her own story, but caroline doesn't swear in return. at least, not often. not casually, anyway. she's not offended, though, just... not likely to repeat it back. ] These are actually better than I remember.
[ which might be because she's starving, and only shoveling food into her mouth as fast as she can eat it is keeping the murder murder murder vibes under control, but hey. whatever works, right? ]
I'm Caroline, by the way.
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there's a moment as she realises she's just had her mouth full of somebody else's food. after it, and almost looking sheepish, she swipes the back of her hand awkwardly over her mouth and tries for a little etiquette. ]
... Sorry. It's been a while. [ since what? it's a mystery. ] Laura. Hi.
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002
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?
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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. ]
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(he should know, jason's had one before)
but plain curiosity will only get jason to push the limits so far. he's interested, but not determined to figure out the answers to his questions. there really isn't any need. )
Didn't know I needed to pay to walk into the showers. Thought these were a free for all.
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with no sleeves to speak of, there's nothing to cover the wrap around scar at her right shoulder. and since he's not asking anymore - ]
I got dead and buried is what I got.
[ pants on next, any previous knee-jerk reaction she had to being naked in a room with a stranger apparently entirely discarded to be replaced with a general air of annoyance. ]
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004
(He's really sick of the burning in his chest by now.)]
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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.
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I'll try to announce myself better next time.
[Better to assume that's it.]
You're acting like someone who's trapped.
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001
Among other things.
[ there's an easy tilt to his head as he looks her over with bright, green eyes. there's something in his face that looks like he might know something that she doesn't, but whatever it is, he's keeping it his own fast secret. ]
You weren't looking for something, were you?
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but there's never anything good to be said about a guy with a look in his eye playing would-be rescuer at a party. at best, he's going to expect gratitude, like you owe him something for a simple act of human decency. at worst, he's another god-lackey trying to lull you into a false sense of security, just waiting for the next best opportunity to bottle you in the face—
okay, that last one's incredibly specific to recent events. but fuck if she has a single reason to give anyone the benefit of the doubt right now, lackey or not. ]
Yeah, actually, amazing you should ask. I was looking for your mom. Haven't seen her, have you?
[ it's a little long-winded for a fuck off, and perhaps slightly slurred around the edges, but she figures it'll get the point across. ]
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there's a little pfft of amusement that sounds like a fart coming through his lips. ]
No, thank the Norns. She's not exactly my idea of a good time.
[ as a warning. (also, he's still mad at her.) ]
Though those sound a bit more like drinking words.
[ he's careful to arrange his own tone to ensure that he doesn't slip into something that's suspiciously in the realm of suggestion. ]
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002
There's a sharp intake of breath at - well, all of it - the sudden nudity - those scars that are far, far worse than hers ever were. Caught between turning away out of respect, but not wanting to communicate disgust (she'd seen near as bad on other people, and one could almost never help one's scars) she lowers her eyes a moment before reconsidering and raising them - to meet the woman's eyes.
She doesn't seem pained, and she hadn't caught sight of any blood, but she'll glance again now, because that's a concern.]
...my apologies. I only meant to see if anyone needed help.
[Augh. What a stupid thing to say. It's not as if she's assigned herself to be "shower assistant".]
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there's always a warring instinct when she's taking up space at the expense of someone else's comfort: to lean in, or to relent? depends on the person. in this instance, it takes only a couple of seconds for her to make the assessment and march quickly over to the ledge by the mirror where her hand-me-downs are piled and her towel dumped, quickly picking up the latter to wrap over damp skin.
being aggressively naked around teenagers isn't a good look. ]
—Hey. No, you're fine. That was - my bad.
[ it's a public shower block. if she's going to stand around naked in front of the mirror, there's really only one likely outcome. ]
no subject
No. It's no "bad" at all. Just the inevitability of communal bathing areas.
[She gets it - it's efficient. But it's very awkward at times, and not terribly well suited on the heels of "Welcome: our hair is gone and powers too if you had them, but you have a new one that's up to you to figure out, it comes with a glow and gives you too many feelings and burning if you do the wrong thing, and there's an implant in your skin that's a network and is also money."]
Soon enough you'll have your own bathroom if you like, no strangers poking their heads in.
[She's not going to ask about the scars directly - they're too obvious for the woman not to know they're there - and it's none of her business unless they're a fresh injury, in which case she'd be well out of her first aid depths. Though she unwittingly takes a moment to admire the stitching - it's better job than she'd done when cleaning up Blas' infected horror of an amputation, and likely took very long - she can't imagine what kind of thing would cause such grievous wounds.]
But since I've already poked...I can try and find you something for the pain if you have any. Or anything else you might need besides a way out, specific reason why you're here, familiar face, or an animal that isn't a robot.
[It's lightly said but there's a bit of sadness in it, maybe bitterness, too.]
002
That's gross. [ thus impressive.
honestly many of jyn's scars are years, sometimes a decade, old and faded more from time than whatever super tech medicine this place has. but her more recent injuries have long since faded during her unconscious convalescence and laura's scars are still very obvious so look. she's gonna point it out.
she pops a raisin in her mouth. ]
Obviously hasn't kept you down.
no subject
fucking public bathrooms.
turning, Laura gives new company the once-over, a deliberate up and down. her mouth is pinched at the corner, a decent disguise for her own curiosity as her arms go crossed over her chest. ]
No shit. [ so what. ] You wanna talk about it? I love a Q and A.
no subject
she holds out the trail mix bag to other woman. ]
Didn't realize how many of us should be dead.
[ there's a question in there, but she can take it or leave it. ]