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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.
sansa stark : game of thrones
[Wandering back after at least one very hoppy drink, handing out whatever she thinks might comfort the new residents (captives?) - and in some cases it's distance, silence, a sad smile - she makes her way through the rooms a few times. Not really expecting to see anyone she knows or has known, but she's restless with something - an anxious seed of needling hope amongst the commotion. Eyes darting to each shorn head, she's trying not to show that hope. Mostly succeeding.]
ii. oktoberfest
Not enough time (or funds) to make anything truly spectacular, but she's inspired by the service costumes - so what's resulted is something simple, but elegant, paired with comfortable boots and a little crown of lights in her cropped hair.
She can be found doing any of the following:
> Curiously sipping something at one of the tents
> Hovering just outside the area populated by celebrities and hangers on, watching, appraising. She might catch an eye or two, she might try and venture inside.
> Perusing the black market stores in search of a blade. Or two. Or ...custom designs.
> Is that stage empty? Is she just full enough of liquid courage to take it and sing a tune she'd found in a karaoke bar? Yes, absolutely. It's another chance to show off her dress, but she'll have to do it a cappella because she's far too rusty at the piano. Or maybe she can find someone to accompany her on an instrument?
> Searching for those in blue shirts (no masks and suits this time) especially those that seem dazed, fearful or worse. This part would be so much easier with Lady by her side - and that makes her sad all over again.
> That sadness (and the warmth of the weather) warrants her to seek another beverage.]
i
Robb..?
[his voice is low and it cracks with emotion. he lurches to his feet but the features quickly settles into sansa's. of course they cut her hair. he's not sure if what he's feeling right now is sorrow or relief but of course he's glad to see her. he's so glad to see her. ]
Sansa!
[louder this time. he stumbles forward in thick-soled boots. he's managed to trade the awful blue clothing for darker shades that fit a little better, but they're still not quite what he's used to, even on the clock. he envelopes her in a hug.]
What did they do to your hair?
no subject
---no, no sight of his Tully-red hair, but then she hears her own name, and not from the voice of an acquaintance or stranger. She knows that voice - knows before she meets his eyes, grey eyes - Stark eyes - and before she can think to speak his arms are around her, and hers clasp him right back. If it's a little too tight she's sorry but she tried not to hope and---
I didn't mean to lose you, I didn't mean to leave, I'm so sorry, so, so sorry.
---she's afraid to let go, afraid this is a dream, a trick, and all she can do is hold fast and cry against his shoulder, even as she answers his question.]
They cut it, but it's better now. I fixed it. Prompto fixed it. It's all better now. Everything's better.
[Is she talking about her hair still? N....o. It's a strange thing - surprise and tears have stolen half her breath, but this is the first time, she realizes, that she's been able to really breathe in days. There's a wave of relief followed by sorrow - a fresh rush of remembrance of her older brother Robb - gone from her so long.]
no subject
It looks nice. Truly. All the lights.
[he gives her hair a few more stroke-pats.]
How long have you...been here? This world.
[without him, without lady. perhaps some of the others are here, though he hasn't seen them--]
no subject
(even though they are all really the same people, aren't they - family no matter what - just different sets of memories is all, and that shouldn't make any difference)
--finding everything in place except for his hair, which is cut woefully short. She returns the patting, rubs her fingertips across his temple.]
They got you, too, I see. I-it's for the implant. [she says, as if she fully understands it, which she doesn't, but whatever. His compliment registers and she's smiling through her tears, but hell ..she was doing that already.] Thank you. I didn't know what else to do...
...I. I've been aware of it for a ...fortnight or so? I don't...
[They've been led to believe they were here longer than that, enough to recover from the small surgeries, the ...small experiment, enough to regrow some hair depending on how fast hair grew here and if magic were used to help it along.]
What do you need? What can I do to help you, please tell me. Y-you're safe here, it's going to be all right, I promise.
[She knows he's suggestible. She remembers that and it pains her.]
no subject
Sansa, I--[he doesn't really need anything. well, a sword, and better clothes would be nice--wait.] The implant? I don't understand.
[there is a soft glow between them. he looks down. there are lights shining...beneath their shirts? he frowns.]
Are you--are we--glowing?
[at least it doesn't look like they're fire..? his tired mind, trying to make sense of it, is drawn to his friend tony, the stark from a different world...he'd had a light in his chest. he'd had an explanation, but still. perhaps stark blood simply glows on earth.]
no subject
---oh.
That had been Jon, hadn't it? Unwilling, or just unable to let it out - mayhap both.]
It's not a bad thing. Please don't be---
[Don't be what? Frightened? Sad? She doubted he was truly fearful, and he had every right to be sad if he wished. Remember how compliant the drugs made you? She steadies herself and keeps her hand on his temple - moves the other to mirror it.]
They call it an empathy bond. Because my skin is touching yours [a light adjust of her fingers] we can feel what the other is feeling. Almost like--- [Almost like warging, is what she'd almost said. ] The glow happens from that, and from other things I can tell you later or now. Whatever you wish me to do.
[She's just concentrating very, very hard on how happy she is to have him here, to know that he's alive, that he's unharmed. It's hard to push her grief for Lady to the background - the closeness of this is so similar in ways to the closeness she'd felt with her wolf - no, she cannot slip beneath his skin and move his limbs, or see her face through his eyes, but... in this moment she tries to keep those thoughts at bay.]
It isn't painful, is it? The glow?
[She'll address the implant in a moment.]
no subject
It feels like--when Ghost is near me.
[he can sense her grief for lady and covers her hand, the one that had been maimed on the other world, with his own.]
They aren't here, are they?
[the wolves and the cats, arya and his mother. perhaps it's better for them back on the clock--but lady had disappeared when sansa did. he tries not to think about that.]
no subject
(Lady and Ghost alone on Clock who will look after them? Arya? Lyanna? Does the Clock still exist?
Four fingertips against Jon's hand - she remembers suddenly his burns and her own mother's wounds (what is it with Starks and hands?) and her voice is raw when she answers.]
No. It's---it's just us.
[For now? It's a small, small ghost of a thought. And:] Yes, it does, a little. It's a bit like that.
no subject
Sorry--I'm sorry, I didn't mean--
[he reaches for her hand again.]
I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you're--
[yourself. he'd thought she'd gone home again, and though it was reassuring to know she was alive in the vale, the alayne debacle had been...harrowing. it left him with an uneasy feeling. he had seen her come through the other side, so he knew she could do it, but he hates to think of what must have happened to make her that way.]
I'm glad to see you.
[he tries a small smile again.]
The wolves could do it, you know. Ghost always knew [...when the others had been killed.]...what the others knew. Nymeria was running around the Riverlands with a massive pack of lesser wolves. I think Shaggydog ate a unicorn.
no subject
It's hard for her, too. But she doesn't want this - hidden behind so many doors - so many things shoved down and locked away - this purposeful forgetting - all the times she'd thought on her dead family in the Vale only to feel apart - to remember Jon with fondness and the first sense of kinship -
(I'm a bastard too now)
It's a mess of mingling - the old thoughts and the new - and gods be god she's Sansa, not Alayne - just Sansa - still in a hiding of sorts, but among many others.]
I'm glad I'm here if it means I'm with you. I'm glad I'm not home.
[There, she's said it. She only wishes that all of them could have made the leap - or whatever it was that got them here. Here she only has to half pretend, and not in front of Jon, her cover story doesn't extend into her own thoughts and further complicate her own sense of self. She doesn't have to be Alayne all the time, and she doesn't have to be on her guard in the same way. Not against the one she's supposed to (appear to) trust.
Even his attempt at a smile is more welcome than anything else she could imagine at this moment.]
A unicorn?
[That's what she says - but what she thinks is: Lady didn't know because Lady hadn't lived. She's glad that she hadn't remembered anything of these other worlds when she'd returned to Westeros - unaware she'd ever had the ability to warg at all. Had it been dormant inside her all that those years in King's Landing? In the Vale? Or was it no more than a trick of these worlds giving her what she wished for in the same way it gave her Lady, and even her own family...]
I'm glad to be myself again, too.
I'll share anything you want to know about this place if it's something I can answer, and if I cannot, then...
[How does one share a document on the network with the----ah, yes.]
There's no little device here. It's in the implant.
[Very lightly brushing the area of the implant scar. She's still not sure why they had to take ALL of the hair, though.]
no subject
Like a goat or a pony, with one long horn.
[he taps sansa's forehead, although it's difficult over the document. he has more questions, and assurances, but the document, and the device...]
How do you--the device...is in my head?
[how does it even fit?]
no subject
Yes! But it's very small.
Do you remember Elliot from Clock? His user-name was "Su", and later "Robot"? He explained to me several times about how the network ...worked, and that all of it, the moving images, the pictures, the words, it was all stored in a ...cloud? Not a real cloud, but ...well, I don't understand how it truly works, but I think it's like storing very many thoughts in a very small head, or ...remember how some buildings in Clock looked very small on the outside but were so large when you went in? It's like that, maybe. Only it's the technology magic that makes it do this...
[Have an image of a fat pigeon.]
You sort of think your way around it. Can you see me on the network? I'm @sansa.stark if that helps.
[She's trying to project her inbox at him. To think her way around the network to find it - unsure of how to best do this.]
You make the letters with your mind.
no subject
How do you--how do you click?
[let alone make letters with your mind.]
no subject
Try to think about---
---maybe try to move your eyes. Just see if you can move your eyes and ...see more?
[She knows an empathy link isn't mind reading, not wholly, but she concentrates very hard on moving the pigeon image off to the bottom of her view - minimizing it if you will - and attempting to reply to a waiting message in her own inbox. Trying to be overly conscious of her movements is awkward, but she's not 100% at this yet ...so she still does have to think about it. It's definitely not second nature yet.]
no subject
You use your eyes to move the page around?
[this is frustrating. he tries to push through the empathy bond to get a better idea of what she's doing and feels the same pain in his chest as when he called for ghost earlier. he makes a strangled noise and stumbles away.]
no subject
Jon!
[Blinking, she wipes at her face, extends a steady, slightly tear-damp hand for him to take should he wish to. He had made himself hurt she she doesn't want to force anything. It must be frustrating to no end to have all this just outside his grasp. She can't know what caused the pain but she has a guess.]
It's not like warging. And ...kind of, yes. It's more ...it's a loose sort of concentration. More of a thought? I...
But you don't need it right away. There are better helpers than me, I am sure. I don't want you to hurt anymore. Not ...now.
Not ever, really.
no subject
[he reaches for her hand again.]
You didn't hurt me. I hurt myself. It's the same as--earlier, I tried to look for Ghost and I--did it then too. I'm an idiot.
[he smiles in a self-deprecating way and touches her face briefly.]
Please. I don't trust anyone else inside my head.
[nobody here, anyway. and then a look of dawning horror:]
Did I hurt you?
no subject
No, no, you didn't. You didn't hurt me, I only felt that you...
[Well, she'd been in his head. Now she's smiling - soft and sincere - it's the same for her. She's a quick judge of character - much better at it than she'd been at the start. I she seems sometimes quick to trust, it's almost never wholly - and more often than not it's the appearance of trust, a veneer of it but not down to the core - with Jon it's different: she would and does trust him with her life.]
Of course.
[She's remembering that suggestibility again - the drug that's still in his system. An idea forms, but it's Jon, and can't not warn him before she tests a command of sorts.]
There's a drug, a potion that makes us very compliant when we first wake. Do you still feel it?
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[his face darkens and his grip tightens.]
They gave it to you. I'll kill them.
[he....probably won't, but he wants to.]
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They give it to everyone, I'm told. No one took advantage and told me to do anything I would have objected to. If anything, people were kind and helpful, especially Rey. I don't think it's worth killing over. Besides, I don't really remember anything about them.
I mean to test it. I don't know if this will work or be of any help at all, but I'm going to tell you to do some things. Is that all right?
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Rey is here?
[he nods.]
Do what you will. You're the clever one.
[a small smile. out of the two of them, at least.]
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[She doesn't say 'from Clock' because it only now occurs to her than Jon could have been somewhere after that and before this, or that time could have upended itself for no explicable reason. Stranger things had happened. There were people she knew that Jon had not, and vice versa - parts both had seen and parts only one or the other had ever stepped foot in.]
All right. Breathe deeply, and know that it's all right if this doesn't happen right away. Try not to doubt yourself. Try to ...relax just a little, or better yet, just let go of a small bit of what tension you're holding in your body. A little is all right to let out. You're still safe and you can still be on your guard if you only relax a little.
It's all right to be frustrated, and it might feel very strange to use your eyes ...without using your eyes.
Don't try to warg.
Think about looking around a network, let your mind try and wander a little ways, to look for what might be there on the edges. It might help to think of the little implant doing its job, and just ....finding what you need in the way that Clock would sometimes give you things.
Think about what that might be like, for the little implant, a tiny device that's now part of you to give you what you want from it as easily as handing something over. [He will find his smile returned.] And we're both clever.
[She watches him as she speaks, fumbling a little over how to explain and letting her own mind open and close and move the little bits of information around as she speaks, trying to just do it and be less concerned with what happens.]
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We went ranging together on the Clock.You never...met her..?
[it's surprising, but of course sansa had her own business to attend to on the clock, and couldn't always be tagging along after him like arya did (and was for a time, made to, as part of her Punishment). he smiles, thinking about her little shop, and relaxes into the sound of her voice. perhaps it's the drugs, or perhaps it's simply the comfort and trust between them, but he follows along, allowing his mind to move around and do as she says. let me see Sansa, he thinks, and he pulls up her id. there are some pictures of embroidery and the fat pigeon. he opens his eyes and grins.]
I found you.
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[She recalls the name in the way she recalls many names - people she knew of yet never spoke directly to, some of them friends of Jon's, of Arya's (or both) ...some friends of Robb, or Bran, her parents, even. Theon.
She tries not to think too much on that, and it's a light thought - barely a thought - a series of Which Jon or Which Arya that she lets fade into surprise and pride that her idea has worked - and that he's managed it with relative ease.]
You did.
Good. See? It's like that mostly for all of it, and it just takes time. Try something else, if you like.
You can read and send messages on the network, but you won't have a name on it yet, so no one will know who you are if you don't say so. There are no moving images on it, and no voices though. Only still images and letters.
Which is ...well, it makes for less chance of an accidental broadcast, but it's also difficult to put a voice or a face to a name. It's definitely harder to break or lose than something you hold in your hands.
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