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

safehouse, day one

[reneger]

( he didn't come here anticipating spending much time under the safehouse's roof. it's a fucking safehouse, but it's not that safe for him. and jason doesn't feel like dealing with shit hitting the fan, again. hasn't figured out that someone isn't around anymore just yet. so he searches the safehouse fast. looks through every room for something familiar and finds--jack shit.

but he does stop on his way out, shrugs off the shoddy faux leather jacket (not his favorite, but another one, soft brown in color) and throws it over to the blanket-mess leaning up against a nearby wall. )

You're only at step one, don't let this shit break you down just yet.

[gasping]

[ with her eyes firmly closed, she's been able to ignore the passing shadows and shapes of people milling too close for comfort; though she hasn't been totally able to ignore the sounds of footsteps and conversation, choosing instead to focus on the steady sound of her own heartbeat helps to muffle the noise.

the jacket catches her attention, though, and so caroline's head lifts, her eyes blinking as they slowly adjust to the artificial light. ]

I'm not broken. [ that much is true. she's lived through worse. the last thing she remembers of home is something much worse. at least no one is actively torturing her here. ] Just need a minute.

[ true, if not the whole story. ]

Is this your jacket?

[ does he want her to hang it up? ]

[reneger]

Was my jacket. It's my least favorite, I decided to get rid of it. ( it's a nice fucking jacket though. if there's one thing in his wardrobe jason doesn't skimp on, it's his outwear. it might be fake, but it feels real. looks real, still has that leathery smell.

without it, jason's left in a red tank and darker jeans. hooks his fingers into the beltloops of his pants, gives her a once-over. or at least, what he can see through the blankets. )

You get the welcoming speech yet?

[gasping]

[ it is nice — and now that he's confessed he's essentially donating it to her, caroline doesn't hesitate to pull it on. it's way nicer than the drab gray t-shirt they've given her.

the blankets fall to her lap, too much weight to lay in one place, and so caroline pushes them off; it exposes the scrubs bottoms they'd given her, washed out pale pink. she doesn't hate them, but she'd rather something of her own. ]

Thank you. [ slim fingers toy with the edge of the lapel, feeling it over. ] I got the basics.

[ she pauses for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing. ]

Sorry. I'm Caroline. I'm not usually this … [ much of a mess, her vague hand gestures seem to say. ]

[reneger]

Malone. ( it's not his real name but it is the one everyone here knows him as. there's no tell that he's lying; jason knows how to fucking lie without it being obvious. answers to malone when it's called out. he claims it as his own, wears malone as well as he wears red hood.

his head tilts to the side when she speaks, an easy grin spreading over his lips. it's softer than his usual expression, but it's still definitely. not quite a smile. )

Don't worry 'bout it. Getting kidnapped to another dimension ain't easy for anyone. I won't judge.

( but he does raise a hand, leans forward to press his palm down against the top of her hair. not ruffling it, but. )

You got friends here?

[gasping]

No. [ it's not bitter, but — caroline hadn't had friends when she was locked up in a cage in brady's van, either. this is just an extension of that same isolation, only. weirder. ] I don't.

[ if there were any logical reason for her to suspect he was lying, caroline doesn't spot it. his confidence carries the lie over her head like a sailing kite, and as hungry as she feels, her senses aren't tuned well enough to catch even an errant heartbeat right now. she'd really have to focus, and he'd have to slip up.

since neither happens, she lets his name settle into her memory without missing a beat. ]

Malone. [ as if testing the way it sounds on her tongue, her face tipping up to peer at the hand that's found its way onto the crown of her head. not pushing it away, just aware. there's an obvious intensity in the way her gaze zeroes in on his wrist, though, the scent of his skin so close to her mouth very much a distraction. ]

You're not new.

[ he doesn't smell like the safehouse. there's the faint hint of the faux leather still clinging to his skin, but there's more to it than that. grass, exhaust — the world beyond this place. ]

[reneger]

( it's certainly not a normal spot for someone to zero in on when someone's right in their space. jason makes note of it, but definitely doesn't have enough information to jump to any reasons why she'd be like that. it's a weak spot, easy to slit open. it's what's closest that she can see, could be that too. whatever it is, his hand slides away as fast as it had approached, drops back down into jeans' pockets. )

Nah, I've been here a while. ( what--since the second round? something like that. he clicks his tongue, raises a hand (again) to point to the back of his head where the implant scar would be, had it not been covered by black hair. ) You need anything, my name's in the system.

( he hates offering. knows it definitely paints a picture that jason doesn't want to have. )

I know a good amount of the 'displaced' or whatever. So I can point you to the right connection.

[gasping]

[ it's better that he does; her control, tenuous at best, requires active effort, a commitment that becomes more difficult with each second that slips away. when his hand pulls back, caroline's shoulders slump, head sagging back down from a poised position she hadn't realized she was holding. so tense — she can hear damon's voice in the back of her head, always mocking.

would it be so bad to let go? you could take him. but she won't. can't. she isn't that person, no matter how easy it would be (and she's no reason to think it wouldn't be). she doesn't want to be. ]

I don't think there's a connection for me here, unless the name Salvatore means anything to you. [ a shot in the dark, quite literally. ] But I appreciate it.

[ her smile might be sweeter than jason's, but it's more tired too. an exhaustion that comes from deep in her bones, weak in more than just effort. ]

I just have to tough it out until they let me go. I've lived through worse.

[reneger]

No. But most people here have something they excel at, or something they're into, or a job that's connected to something else that they can get they're grubby fingers into.

( jason's not mentioning any of his because he's not a sharer, especially not about his late night activities. )

Don't know any Salvatore's, but I know a few medics. Some engineers. Miscellaneous bullcrap like that.

( ie, if she needs something done, he can probably point fingers to the person who can do it. )

You'll be fine. There's plenty of overly friendly, helpful geeks wandering 'round these halls. ( a slow lift of his shoulders, before he's taking a step back. ) See ya.

[gasping]

Medics? [ that connects for her. where there's medical services, there's usually medical supplies. she's less interested in the pain meds and more into cold storage, but the hunger's undeniable all the same. to someone who didn't know any better, the sudden twitch of her head in his direction might be more akin to a junkie in need of a fix. which, admittedly speaking, wasn't a horrible comparison. ] Here, you mean?

[ she hasn't done very much exploring yet in the safehouse. hasn't done much beyond a perfunctory shower and change of clothes, actually, so if there is somewhere here where what she wants is stored, she hasn't found it yet. ]

Wait. Where? Can you show me?

[reneger]

( it's an expression jason recognizes. the sudden interest. medical rooms carry a lot of miscellaneous bullcrap to get high off of. but he doesn't jump to conclusions.

instead, jason stops in place. seems to consider it for a moment before his arms raise to point thumbs out at himself. )

If you're in need of a medic, you're looking at one of 'em. ( more of a field medic than anything else but he knows enough to get by. besides, that's--not what he's giving this info for anyway. ) Or are you looking more for the supplies?

[gasping]

Supplies. [ she knows how it sounds. if she was less desperate, she might be able to control it more, but right now she's too hungry and too highkey focused on getting to her next meal to care. ] I'm —

[ starving, she almost says, but her mouth presses together into a thin line before the words can come out. even thinking about the possibility of what could be available has her control fraying, canines sharpening behind her lips as her mouth begins to water.

breathe, caroline. a mantra. just breathe. it takes a half-minute or so, but eventually, she manages. ]

I heard that medicine is really good here. I was hoping I could find something here that would help.

[ if she has to lie, she'll quote a dr phil episode she watched one time while she was on vampire house arrest, pre-daylight ring. sun allergies. ]

[reneger]

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

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

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

[gasping]

[ he's close now. the scent of him floods through her, only strengthened by the scrapes and bruises in various states of healing littered across his skin, and caroline nearly loses it right there.

when she speaks, her voice is tight, only barely controlled; though she looks at him, the gaze only lasts a moment before her lids squeeze shut, hoping to avoid anyone noticing the way her eyes darken. ]

Allergies. [ it's the least convincing phrase ever uttered, if she's honest, but it's all she's got. ] I have — I can't go in the sun.

[ which is true, technically speaking, if not. totally accurate. ]

Can you, um. [ slipping slipping slipping. so close. she could just — he's right there, it'd be so fast, nobody could stop her. ] Can you show me? Where the supplies are.

[ a beat, pained. ]

Please?

[reneger]

( sounds fake. she closes her eyes to quick, looks away from him like she's--what, avoiding something? avoiding him, meeting his eyes. this would be better suited for dick; he knows how to soften his voice, how to smile, to get people to meet his eyes and be gentle when asking questions. jason's much more of a stab first, ask questions later kind of guy. but he's not shoving a blade into a teen girl who's obviously either terrified or looking for her next fix. )

I can bring a first aid kit, but the heavier stuff's under lock and key from newbies.

( not necessarily true. but it's a lie to get an answer he needs. )

If you need something stronger, you've gotta let me know. I'll get it.

[gasping]

I don't need anything like that.

[ it's not — she's not a junkie. she's not looking to raid the nurse's office for codeine syrup or pain meds. she just needs to eat, and for a second, caroline lets her guard down simply out of pure offense.

her eyes flicker open with furrowed brows, her mouth curving into a deep frown, surprise and outrage at the insult; it has the unfortunate side-effect of revealing pointed canines and dark eyes that bore into his skin as if searching for a weak point. ]

I'm not an addict. [ not like vicki. not like jeremy. caroline might be a vampire, but she's not shooting up behind the school. (she's just judgmental, like any seventeen year old girl from a small town with a popularity complex.) ] I'm just hungry.

[ and stupid, apparently. ]

[reneger]

( it's not a response jason expects, and it shows in the way that his brows furrow tight. nose pinched. he looks her over once more, but keeps his own voice soft and light. imitates dick grayson as best as is possible considering he's definitely not him.

it's the eyes, the fangs that start to piece together the puzzle. still, he doesn't move away any. )

You're not gonna find any food items down in the medical supply room. ( a hand reaches forward, rests down against the mattress. his knuckles are--notably bruised, fresh scrapes covering them. gloves removed from dealing with someone else earlier. ) But we're all stuck here, and if any one of us starts making shit decisions, we're all gonna take the fall for it.

( a. bit heavy, but: ) So here, we work together.

( jason doesn't but that's not the point. )

You need something, we'll figure it out.

[gasping]

[ it sounds nice. he sounds nice. (hell, he smells better, but that's the feral part of caroline's brain scrambling to find some opportunity to feed.)

but nice doesn't equal safe, and just because the so-far-so-good strategy of "people sticking together" has supposedly worked for him doesn't mean people will be willing to do that for her. because it's not a matter of lending a cup of sugar or spotting someone a few bucks for lunch. what she needs is much more personal than that.

and yet, as he leans forward, caroline can't help but let out a shallow breath, her gaze focusing on the clotted scrapes that litter over bruised knuckles near her on the mattress. he's so close. too close.

when she speaks, it's lower too, strained. ] I can't. I — there has to be something there.

[ feeding off him, off anyone, is so tempting. but it's terrifying, too. she's been so careful not to give in to those instincts, and now it's all she can think about. the image floods through her mind: lifting his hand in hers, exposing the milky underside of his wrist, burying her teeth into the skin and the veins beneath.

his neck would be better, but she won't let herself even think about that. as it is, she barely manages to smother the whimper that bubbles up from low in her throat. ]

[reneger]

You're still not telling me what you're looking for. ( she's young. young and terrified and doesn't know what the hell she's doing and jason can definitely relate. he's been there. quite a few times, even if he was a little better at hiding it. given her circumstances, that's entirely understandable, too; she doesn't know what to do, doesn't know if she can trust anyone with--whatever this is. )

You're not human. ( he states simply instead, keeps his voice barely above a whisper. ) We've got plenty of people here who aren't. Gods. Androids. Hell, people who used to be dead and woke up out of their fucking coffins one day.

( it's fucking hard not to snap at people. but jason's giving it his best shot. easier, given that she is just a kid. )

I need to know what you need to get it to you.

[gasping]

I'm hungry.

[ that much is a whine, agitation and frustration both, but it's an understatement. she's past hunger, past a simple want for food — though caroline's never seen it happen, she could very well mummify given a bit longer of burning energy and nothing come in to replenish it. ]

Unless there's blood bags down in the secret basement that you won't let me into or somebody willing to stick their neck out for the cause, I don't think you can help me.

[ which is what she'd been worried about from the very beginning, but she'd let herself get carried away with a little shred of useless hope. and now she's let out a secret she never intended anyone to know, to somebody who may not even keep it.

and she can't leave this place, at least not for a few more days. which meant she could very well be trapped in here with people who would like nothing more than to stick a pile of wood right through her vampire barbie heart. no thanks. ]

I need to get out of here. There's got to be — bunnies, foxes, something.

[ she hadn't even been able to find rats before rey had ambushed her, but surely there was something out in this place. it might be the future, but surely there were animals somewhere. ]

[reneger]

There's nothing like that in this generation. No wildlife running round streets to nab. ( at the very least: she made it absolutely clear with her last statements about what exactly's going on here. doesn't leave room for doubt in jason's mind when she speaks about blood bags and necks. it's strange, but not the strangest--hell, it's not even close to the top of the list of weirdest shit he's seen on gotham's corners. granted, she's still a little out of his field of expertise. jason handles drug dealers, petty arms dealers, assholes like black mask. those that aren't quite human but not far enough gone to be considered otherworldly. rarely, does he cross over into dealing with other shit.

there's a low breath that passes through his lips, before jason gets to his feet. the medical supplies are still running a bit low after what happened before. from how--desperate she's looking, he doubts she can hold it together much longer. but she is trying--that much is obvious. whatever her deal is, ripping out veins and doing whatever the hell she wants isn't on her game plan.

and jason todd has always had a weak spot for kids. even the blood sucking kind.

hands slide down to press against thighs, using that as leverage as jason pushes himself up to his feet. ) Caroline, ( using her name, for once. ) get up. This isn't the place for talking shop. You wanna eat? We'll make sure you eat.

[gasping]

[ she probably shouldn't. she's never been the biggest follower of the 'think three steps ahead' rule of life, but even caroline can recognize that admitting she's starving for something more than just pasta carbonara less than twenty-four hours after arriving into a strange place (not to mention the future) is a little bit of a risk.

but what choice does she have? it's either suffer alone for the next howevermany days until the hatch opens for her and then try to find her way to some futuristic blood bank or animal shelter, or take this unsolicited but much needed offer for help from a stranger — and considering she's just been brusquely advised that bunnies aren't a thing she's likely to find, caroline has to admit that her chances of survival aren't exactly great if she chooses door number one.

so getting up really is the only way to go. she's wary, admittedly, but trying to be positive about this whole risky business scenario. ]

Okay. I'm coming. [ she doesn't have anything for anyone to steal, so nothing to worry about in terms of leaving something behind. ] You're not planning on staking me in a broom closet or anything, right?

[reneger]

Look, ( he waits. waits for her to get up, waits for her to get herself steady before he starts heading off--towards the nearest closed off room. doesn't matter what's in it as long as no one is in it. jason doesn't necessarily want this part to be noisily announced, given what she is. and he can speak for himself all he wants, but he doesn't know everyone in this safehouse. doesn't know how safe it actually would be for someone who sucks blood to stay alive. ) if I wanted someone dead, I wouldn't hide it.

( not. not like that anyway. )

'sides, I always trust my instincts. ( with a slow, easy half-smile in her direction. as if they're not walking away to go fucking talk in a closet or something close about vampirism. ) And my instincts say you're not a murderous asshole.

[gasping]

No, I'm not.

[ she can be certain about that. my name is caroline forbes, and i'm a good vampire. if such a thing exists, caroline wants to be it. control is important. she could give in to baser instincts, or she could choose to be better than that — and so she does.

the room in question isn't quite a reach-in closet, but it's certainly no luxury suite. there's barely enough room for a few people to stretch their arms. but it's private, with a door that closes and separates its occupants from the rest of the safehouse, and so it's really better than any other alternatives.

not that there seem to be very many. ]

I usually eat bunnies. Deer, if I can get my hands on them. Blood bags if I have them. I don't usually go after people. [ a beat, a hand running through limp hair. ] It's too murderous asshole-y for me.

[reneger]

( made even smaller by how stupidly bulky jason is, but he hunkers down a bit. presses lips together as she talks. if she can feed off of blood bags, it means she doesn't need to bite. good. ripping teeth out of his skin if she doesn't know how to fucking stop is the absolute last thing jason really wants to deal with. he loses enough blood as is. given her earlier reactions, she's--not doing too hot, and jason definitely doesn't want to test her endurance this early on. )

Physical contact here spikes an empathy link. ( meaning, she'll feel everything off the person she's feeding from. while he's not stupid enough to believe that's enough to stop a person from hurting someone else, it's a bit of a deterrent. and: he does follow instincts. she doesn't seem like that kind of gal.

jason leans back against the wall behind him, holds up an arm. she's already got his jacket, the tank under definitely doesn't cover skin. there's gloved over his hands, but he leaves those. )

Had an incident recently that cut into our medical supplies. ( slowly, a soft blue glow starts up from his chest. shadows curl off his shadows, fall over his palm into the shape of a small knife. he holds it up to his own arm, presses the blade against the meat of a forearm. )

This good enough?