larkers: (pic#12386245)
MEADOWLARK MODS ([personal profile] larkers) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarklogs2019-03-09 11:10 am

ARRIVAL LOG 008

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.

998: (what the fuck like honestly)

jon snow | asoiaf (clockbox crau)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-10 04:44 am (UTC)(link)
i. arrival

[it's hot, humid, and crowded. jon vaguely remembers going to sleep in his lodgings on the clock, with arya and his mother in their lofts. this wheelhouse smells strange and muted, and he is manhandled into the street before he can get any real sense of it. there's a warm breeze on his neck and he pats the back of his neck. someone has cropped off most of his hair.]

Seven Hells.

[speaking and standing are more difficult than they should be. he clutches at the wall of the alleyway, stumbling forward.]

Ghost?

[ghost hasn't liked to leave his side lately, but jon's known him to wander off quite a bit. he pushes his mind forward, casting out for ghost's senses, and feels a sudden, searing pain in his chest. he crumples against the wall.]

What--? Mother...

[it's an afterthought, almost a whimper. when did he become so used to having his mother around that he might call for her in pain? there are many people around, but none of them seem to be lyanna stark. he doesn't see arya either, or anyone else he knows. but it's dark, and his head hurts.]

Arya? [more softly this time:] Sansa?

[he stumbles forward, into some kind of...feast, or party. over the roar of the crowd he can hear some kind of melodic yelling. there are pavillions with tables and racks of bottled drinks. despite his better judgement he grabs the nearest bottle and downs it, clutching the table with his free hand. it's ale, although it can't be very good if it needs all these hops to be drinkable. someone yells at him. he understands he's just finished off their drink. he looks up at them, exasperated and disbelieving. it seems like a lot of fuss for a drink from the clock, especially with the state he's in.]

I was thirsty.

[he straightens up and sets the bottle down.]

More ale. Water would be better.

[nothing happens. distantly he remembers sansa telling him about the other worlds. this certainly doesn't seem like the clock. there are too many people, and he doesn't know who in the clock could have kidnapped him and cut his hair. the crowd of men (so many men, in strange garb, closer to the seven kingdoms at times, closer to the clock at others, not really typical for either) starts to move towards him. he tries calling for ghost again and experiences the same searing pain. he sags against the table and tries for shouting.]

Ghost--!

[he looks back up at the small crowd of onlookers, somewhat defeated.]


Has anyone seen a great white wolf?

ii. safehouse

[jon's finally found some darker canvas trousers that fit him, and black boots that are sturdy if thick in the sole. sansa's even managed to find a black shirt for him, though he hadn't asked. it doesn't matter; without longclaw he still feels vulnerable, easy prey. the old bear had told him not to lose it...he sits on a bed and shakes his head in disbelief. it's like being back in the cells at castle black. at least he's not laid up with stab wounds. he rubs his burned hand over his short hair ruefully. there's a scar on his neck that wasn't there before, eerily vertical. it should concern him more than it does. he feels the loss of ghost--and arya, his mother, their other animals, even the clock itself--too keenly to be properly alarmed over his device being in his head now. maybe he's in shock, or maybe he's just exhausted. he's definitely on a face journey about it.]

iii. wandering around the festival

[you're welcome to bump into jon at the festival at any time, he will be looking miserable and drinking beer. at some point he might eat a sausage.]
Edited 2019-03-10 07:33 (UTC)
revlon: (152)

i.

[personal profile] revlon 2019-03-10 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They've changed things up on the last few transports, it seems. Gone are the tell-tale white scrubs that marked them as decidedly other in a sea of New Amsterdam locals, which means the displaced need to be more alert and discerning when it comes to picking out the newcomers. The hair isn't always a giveaway, either, since Peggy herself had arrived with a full head of it (albeit much shorter than she last remembered).

But a man looking lost — certainly more lost than in a drunken stupor like so many others — and asking about a wolf, that's unusual enough. ]


Excuse me, [ she interrupts with a charming smile, elbowing through the gathering crowd so she can loop an arm through Jon's. She's sorry to issue a command when she knows he must be under the influence of the compliance drug, but she says a low whisper: ] Just play along, [ and continues more loudly: ] Great White Wolf, was it? Isn't it that terribly obscure microbrewery? I just can't quite recall which stall it was but I'm confident we'll find it — shall we?

[ And if he's amenable, she's just going to... gently and insistently steer him in a different direction. Bloody, bloody hell. ]
998: (this is hard)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-10 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[jon nods and allows himself to be steered, trying to work out what a very small brewery has to do with ghost.]

The tents are breweries.

[that explains all of the...ale. perhaps it is some kind of brewing competition. he glances in one and sees sausages as well. his stomach growls. he tries to say that he doesn't care which brewery the ale comes from, as long as he can drink it, and that he just wants to find ghost, but all he can manage is]

I need a drink. I'm thirsty.
revlon: (309)

[personal profile] revlon 2019-03-12 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes, I imagine so.

[ Ever since she arrived at the height of strict water rationing in the city, the summer unrelenting as it was, Peggy has fallen into the habit of carrying her glass water bottle. She fishes it out of her rucksack now and hands it to him, keeping her voice low as they weave through the crowds to a more secluded spot by a building's entryway. ]

Here, it's water. [ A breath. ] Am I right in guessing you're new to the city? [ Without waiting for an answer: ] Because animals aren't very common here. Not as food, not as pets, and certainly not in the wild, like a wolf. You can't talk about them where people might overhear.
998: (srsly)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-12 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[he accepts the water gratefully.]

Thank you.

[and drains it. he may be used to strict rations, but never water. he wipes his mouth and hands the bottle back to her.]

I am in your debt.

[he takes a breath, still struggling with his words.]

Ghost is mine. He comes with me. We were together on the Clock. He followed me from home.

[his mouth twists.]

Direwolves aren't common anywhere. Especially not white ones.
revlon: (169)

[personal profile] revlon 2019-03-13 01:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ I am in your debt, he says, and she immediately waves it off with a shake of her head. ]

Please, there's no need for any of that, [ she interjects kindly, letting him take his time. Speak when he can manage it. She knows how overwhelming arriving can be, feels, so she's not about to rush this man into things or pile information on him before he's ready to process it. ] If this Ghost of yours followed you here, we would know.

[ She's sure of it. A great white wolf wandering the streets of New Amsterdam? It would be all over social media by now. She does a cursory scan of the network via her neural implant to be certain, navigating the newsfeed with a flick of her eyes, but finds nothing. She refocuses on the man in front of her, taking her bottle back and tucking it away. ]

What's your name? Are you all right?

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cheffeur: (50)

[personal profile] cheffeur 2019-03-10 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[Well. That's certainly a new arrival.

A forlorn, confused looking man stumbling up to a table, grabbing a strangers drink, and crying out for-- a ghost? And a wolf?

(He's not quite sure what a wolf is, but a quick access of the network tells him its a wild, possibly-extinct relative of a dog. Another animal of this Earth he's not familiar with.)

But regardless, the man with the shorn hair and desperate, lost look is certainly attracting attention. And so he smoothly walks up with a small glass bottle of water, setting it down in front of him.]


There you are. [Casually as could be, as though he actually knows who this man is. Which is hopefully all the better for getting the rest of the crowd to shrug and turn back to their own drinks.]

You're already drunk, aren't you. I told you earlier, it was just one of those sorts who enjoys dressing up as animals. [He has a casual smile on, lifts a hand to one of the few still paying them mind, as though to inform the stranger 'i got this', and rests an elbow at the small standing-table between them.] Perhaps it's time to switch to water, hmm?
998: (sad dog face)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-10 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[jon is not awake enough for this, and too thirsty. he drains the glass bottle in one gulp and sets it back down, gazing forlornly up at the person who gave it to him.]

I don't understand. [he picks up the small glass bottle and turns it around in his hand.] Is there more water?


cheffeur: (22)

[personal profile] cheffeur 2019-03-10 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[He can't blame his confusion. After all, he'd had a fairly awful time when he'd initially arrived, dizzied from the drugs in his system and the flashing lights and revelers--]

There's no need to just yet. After all, it's certainly not like home. [But he'll gladly nod at the request for more water. It's probably better for whatever's in his system than the alcohol that seems to flow so freely. And distracting the newcomer with conversation and hydration seems to have helped with the shouting for ghosts and wolves, which means far less eyes on them.]

I'll fetch you another. [Thankfully it's not far to the counter, and he's able to return with Jon's bottle refilled, and one for himself.] Have you only just arrived?
998: (don't open dead inside)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-10 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[home? does this man recognize him from winterfell? he doesn't sound much like it. jon squints at him. his hair is quite a silvery-gold, which fits the descriptions of many targaryens jon's read about. but could he know about jon...? could he be the young prince who escaped stannis to the free cities..? jon tries to remember his name.]

I went to sleep on the Clock and I woke up in a wheelhouse...[accepts the second bottle of water with a grateful nod and downs it. he stands up a little straighter and turns away from the table and towards the man.] Thank you. I am in your debt. [he furrows his brow for a moment, considering.] You spoke of home, earlier. Do you know the Seven Kingdoms?
cheffeur: (43)

[personal profile] cheffeur 2019-03-10 08:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[Perhaps subtlety is lost. But with the dramatics over with, it doesn't seem as though anyone is really paying attention to their conversation, too excited over the next small keg being tapped into at the counter to hearty cheers from the crowd.]

Think nothing of it. It's not as though I gave you anything of my own. [And with the temperatures in New Amsterdam dropping, there's more freedom of water usage. Still he lifts a brow at the man's question.]

I'm only familiar with one, to be honest. But there's a few of us who are certainly not from here. So don't feel too panicked about your rude awakening.

[A pause as he pulls at his own water.] But be cautious of being too vocal about it just yet. The majority of people here have known nothing but this city their whole lives.

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blyat: (★ crying just for me)

iii.

[personal profile] blyat 2019-03-10 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[As is a typical routine by now, Cain's out hunting the crowds for familiar faces once the message from El comes through. He's since abandoned most hope to find a certain person - although Deimos' arrival has briefly ignited some futile longing - but there are other new arrivals to sweep up and direct to the safehouse. He's not sure why he bothers, half the time, except that it could blow back against all of them if something were to happen.

So here he is, searching for blue shirts, and finding a gloomy man poised to take a bite out of a sausage.]


Probably not real meat, just so you know. Either bugs or plants or something. [Yet he waits, watching Jon. He reserves judgment for now.] Lemme know how it tastes.
998: (for real for real)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-10 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[jon shrugs. if he went around worrying about what was in sausages he'd never have time to do anything else. besides, plants and bugs sound find next to the cats and rats and dogs stannis was always complaining about having eaten in the siege of storm's end, 20 years ago, before jon was--well, the rebellion is another thing he'd rather not dwell upon. he takes a bite and swallows.]

Tastes like sausage.

[mostly like the spices and herbs that went in it, not really worse than three-fingered hobb's. it does have a strange texture, though, mostly spongy with a bit of grit at the end.]

blyat: (★ one night)

[personal profile] blyat 2019-03-12 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
Hey, that's what it's supposed to taste like, right?

[He's eying the plate on display himself. Never one to be too picky for food - not an option in space - he's had less issue than some others for their strict bug-and-plant diets.]

Sounds like you're acclimating fine. [Cain surveys the man, whose attitude is a far improvement from other new arrivals he's met in the past.] Not where you thought you went to bed yesterday, huh?
998: (.... . . . . .... . . ....)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-12 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
[jon shrugs--here he thought he was sulking again. he sets the sausage down on the plate, but then he has nowhere to put the plate. he tries to hold it with one hand.]

The last place we went to was better.

[and they had their dogs!]

You sound like you came here from somewhere else.
blyat: (★ let me see your hand)

[personal profile] blyat 2019-03-12 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, I did too. Gotta say, this place is better than mine.

[Meanwhile, Cain buys a full mug of hoppy beer from the vendor in front of them, the entire transaction happening without a physical exchange of currency.]

No beer in space. [He tips the mug toward Jon.] Where were you? Uh, but tell me away from these guys. Kinda supposed to be on the down low. [And he's stepping back from the vendor and food on display.]

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inherited: (you don't like my hair?)

ii

[personal profile] inherited 2019-03-10 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's been a rough day. The lack of control over it is too much. But Riku can't let that get to him. He had once been a kid obsessed with the power to protect people, and he knows that he hasn't lost all of that. Just because he can't draw on dark flames or slip into darkness to end up across a field of battle doesn't mean he can't keep it together. He has to keep a cool head.

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

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


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

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-11 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
[jon looks up, and sees...water? he's a little confused by the solemnity with which it's being handed over. perhaps it only looks like water? many liquids do.]

Is this...water?

[he reaches out, then falters.]

If you're thirsty, you should drink it.

[he has gotten water from the kitchen before and is fully prepared to do so again.]
inherited: (i'm not much of a superhero)

[personal profile] inherited 2019-03-11 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
It is, and I am, but you looked like you could use something to clear your head. [Riku doesn't know where he stands with these people. As a keyblade master, he knows what should be expected of him, but that doesn't necessarily match up. The expectations are also unclear even at home. No one wants him to do too much, but not too little. He has to keep Sora chilled out, but also accomplish a whole lot that Sora can't that should also be Sora's job. And now he's here, and ...

None of this is as weird as it could be.

So, maybe he can help on that front.]


If I got it wrong? Sorry.
998: (you're not smizing)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-12 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
[jon smiles a little. it's a kind gesture, and a little childlike; it seems like something rickon would do. this boy looks much older than rickon would be, but still younger than him--maybe sansa's age. the slow dull ache of missing his little brothers grows sharp for a moment. he drops his arm. he can't take water from a thirsty kid.]

I don't know if water will clear my head. But thank you. You drink it.

[if it were coffee, maybe...but he doesn't say anything, because he really doesn't want to imply this boy should go out of his way to get him coffee.]
inherited: (C O N T E M P L A T I V E)

[personal profile] inherited 2019-03-20 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
Got it. [He draws the glass back, taking a sip from it. It's water. It doesn't taste like anything from Destiny Islands, but he figures that's just another world thing. Some things never retain the same taste, feel. Any of that.

Riku reclaims his spot on his bed. If he was Sora, he'd press here. His heart tells him he should.]


So, what's up? You look like you're having a bad time.

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whitehair: ( incestualicons ) (Default)

i

[personal profile] whitehair 2019-03-18 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
[ it's not ghost, but maybe he will just have to settle for this white-haired, pale guy pushing his way through the crowd. it wasn't exactly heine's intention to help anyone in any way, but in the light of what's been going down, no kind of commotions caused by new arrivals could help them any - like it or not, heine was stuck here for the time being, and they were all connected together - he's just trying to cover for his ass, here.

as expected - it's something of a familiar sight by now to see a man looking more than half-dead from shock leaning against the table, with a head of badly shorn hair.

looked more trouble than he was worth, but he can't be backing out now.

heine scowls, casting the look on the crowd gathering around them until a few of them take the hint and start to back off a pace or two. ]
Don't you have anything better to do? Fucking vultures.

[ and to jon: ] Stop freaking out about whatever you're yelling about and breathe.
998: (forever sideeyes)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-18 03:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[jon's mind empties out and he inhales on command. what was he thinking about? ghost. it hasn't escaped his notice that this man has the same coloring as ghost, and has chased off all the onlookers, as ghost would do. he wonders if he has his own wolf with jon's coloring, and grey-brown brothers and sisters all with red and dark wolves. a silly thought. why did it occur to him? ghost isn't here. ghost always finds him. these two thoughts bounce around his brain. also:]

I am breathing.

[he had never stopped breathing. well, probably. as far as he knows.]
whitehair: ( incestualicons ) (Default)

[personal profile] whitehair 2019-03-18 03:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ white hair, red eyes. like ghost (like a ghost), but heine has no way of knowing something like that. he hasn't got any wolves himself, just the Dog living inside his head but it is quiet here in this city, silenced by whatever they put into his head, no longer spitting poison and bile in his ear like he used to, but he imagines (knows) that it wears his face. maybe that's his own, personal haunting.

Heine narrows his eyes slightly, only belatedly remembering the whole thing with giving commands - at least it wasn't anything too drastic, and at least he's stopped with the yelling now. ]


Good.

[ the people gradually shuffle off; one or two gives them suspicious stares, but heine stands, hands shoved into pockets, until the attention shifts elsewhere. ]

Let's see, you don't really know where you are, do you?
998: (ugh)

[personal profile] 998 2019-03-18 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[jon stands up straight.]

No. Nor my wolf, nor my sword. Nor my clothes.

[he looks down at his truly unfortunate trousers. his shirt is an eye-searing shade of blue.]

Nor anyone.

[he bows his head, which forces him to look at the unfortunate clothes again, so he shifts and stares at the ground.]
Edited 2019-03-18 16:27 (UTC)

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