meadowlarklogs | ARRIVAL LOG 008

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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.

> NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ she rolls her eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't actually snap out of her skull and fall onto the ground like dice. ]

Because, smartie pants, the second you try to interact with anything around here, the system's going to recognize you don't have a name. And I do mean anything.

[ she gestures towards a stall just past the edge of the alley, where customers interacted with holographic menu boards. there's no physical money exchanged, no personal interaction, just digital flickers of technology and reflective light to document the transfers. even the delivery is digital, a continuously running conveyor belt dropping off neatly wrapped boxes just a moment later. ]

Do you even know what year it is? Or what city you're in, for that matter?

I don't. But, isn't that what you're here for? To fill in the blanks I've got in my memory? [ what kind of welcoming committee were you if you weren't going to provide him with the answers to all these pertinent questions, daisy? ]

Doesn't look too dissimilar from where I came from though. Technology running your fucking lives, people sleeping in the streets, bright colors, shitty overlords, death, drugs, destruction.

[ did he have it right? was he close? he's close and he knows it. ]

Feels like home. [ fuck bay city. ]

Nope.

[ she doesn't get paid enough for this. she doesn't get paid at all. if he wants to be rude and ungrateful for the help she's being nice enough to provide, that's on him. he's got the guide now, that's better than nothing. granted, he won't be able to do much of anything if he doesn't let el set him up with an id, but that's not really her problem.

but — and daisy hates to even admit it — she can't just leave him there. she's not going to force him to follow her, but she can force him to pay attention. ]

Don't move. [ there. just enough of a command that he can't run away from her while she reaches out, a hand curving over the skin of his forearm. it's not an affectionate touch or even a polite one; her fingers wrap snugly around the muscle and bond, squeezing tight for a moment or two to emphasize the bond between them.

sure enough, the alley illuminates from the soft blue glow, spilling across their bodies and down onto the floor. from daisy, he'll get irritation, exasperation — but worry, too, concern etched into the nooks and crannies of her emotion. he's a pain in the ass, but this confirms it: he's one of them, and she's not just going to abandon him. ]

Is that familiar to you? Or can you stop running your mouth long enough to actually let me give you some answers?

[ goddammit with the commands again. he glares at her but, yes, doesn't move because he can't. fucking hell. when she reaches out to grab him, he has a sharp barb on his tongue ready to go but it immediately fades away when blue light bounces off the surrounding walls and he gets a flood of emotions that are not his. ]

The fuck did you do?

[ and if he's getting emotions that he knows he's not feeling, he assumes they're hers (irritation? he can do better than that) which means she's probably picking up on his feelings. a mish mash of anger, frustration, and, somewhere deep down, crushing loss that he's not dealing with. not yet. maybe not ever. ]

Let go of me. Let go. [ stop peeping his horrible emotions, days. ] Who the hell thought that was a good idea?

[ her hands lift as quickly as they'd latched on, arms crossing loosely over her chest as she steps back to settle against the wall. she could tell him to relax, loosen the command — but he's still being a jerk, so. ]

If you'd read what I sent you, you'd know the answer to that already. [ newbie guide is very helpful. she wrote the section on the empathy bond, she should know. ] But you were too busy running your mouth, weren't you?

[ has she made her point? ]

Just relax for, like, five seconds and let me actually help you, please?

[ there. he can breathe, he can move. and she even threw in a please. she's so nice and generous with those. ]

[ he still can't move and it's pissing him off. but, at least she's not trying to systematically torture him so one bright spot in an otherwise fucked up day. so, he keeps glaring, arms coming up to cross over his chest. ]

Fine. Help me, sweetheart.

[ he will run that fucking name into the ground and it's your own fault, daisy. you told him that was your name and so he's going to make it your name. ]

I'm perfectly relaxed. Not like I can do anything else when you're fucking holding my strings.

[ it's better than freak. better than a lot of things he could call her. she can handle sweetheart even if there's nothing sweet about the way he says it. ]

You can move, [ releasing the strings, as if to prove a point, but she's quick to cut him at the pass: ] But don't do anything stupid.

[ she may not be able to quake him here, but she can hold her own just fine. ]

Just ask your questions.

Edited 2019-03-14 14:18 (UTC)

[ what questions does he have? there is, admittedly, a lot of them but he's always been the person that figured it out on his own. attaching himself to people was just asking for shit to happen in the future. ]

I think I should be telling you to not make me do anything fucking stupid. [ weird controlling power that she has over him right now. fuck her. ]

What fucking planet is this? [ first and foremost. ]

Earth. [ duh. ] 2511. [ a vague sweeping gesture ] And this is New Amsterdam.

[ further details regarding the ways of life, government organization, and other fun facts of the times could be found via a simple future google search. if he was familiar with technology, she had faith he could figure it out. ]

I'm not telling you to do anything unless I have to. So behave yourself, and you won't have to worry about it.

[ a beat. ]

Do you want a beer or not?

Don't take that tone. I wasn't born on Earth. It's a valid fucking question where I'm from. [ space travel and other planets were a thing, daisy! open your fucking mind. ]

And yes, I want a beer. I want about five of them.

[ because this is some serious whiplash even for him. waking up from a two century sleep wasn't even this bad and he'd killed a few guys when that had happened. sleeve sickness was a hell of a thing. ]

I'm not dead, am I? [ because that had been his expectation. ] You're not the gatekeeper for the afterlife, are you?

Not for this Afterlife. [ ha. jokes. ] But no, you're not dead. You're probably healthier than you think you should be, actually.

[ because there had been plenty of people who should have been gravely injured if not dead, based on their last memories of their former lives, but they were all in top shape (physically speaking, anyway) upon their arrival in the safehouse. it seemed to be a trend. ]

Come on. [ it's an order unintentionally given as she gestures for him to follow her. there's a bar around the corner, one she's been to a few times, that winds up being a good place to get a drink when she needs a little peace and quiet. it'll be a good spot for him to ask any questions without much risk of being overheard. ] Let's get you that drink.

Oh, perfect. Just what I wanted to be. [ hey, he'd made that decision in reileen's ship for a fucking reason. he'd been ready. if she was going to go, he was going to go to. he'd been the one to kill her and he'd been so fucking sure about joining her.

she gives him another order and he huffs but follows because he can't do anything else. ]

If they're serving anything harder than fucking beer, I'll take that. [ he needs it. ] Someone fucking shaved my head, the least I'm owed is something that turns my esophagus into a shriveled up mess.

Well, it's not like you don't have the option, [ a casual throwaway line as they pile into a booth, daisy's neural id scanning in to order two drinks. not quite pure liquor, but not beer either. it doesn't take long for a waitress to come find them, or to deliver the goods in pint glasses with logos long since scratched off.

she tips her glass in mock salute before taking a sip. look, not poisoned. ]

Don't say I never did anything for you.

My fuckin' hero.

[ but thank god he's got something. he grabs for the glass and downs half of it in a few swallows before putting it back down since he doubts he'll get another free drink out of her. might as well make this last. ]

So, this place does everything with this fucking thing someone put in my head? Wow, how impersonal. [ like he hadn't just come from a planet with similar technological advances. ] Seems like a convenient way for whoever brought me here to see all my dirty thoughts. If they wanted to know that, I'd just tell them.

It's all through the implant, yeah. Has been, apparently, for a while now. For the locals, it's just business as usual.

[ so shouting about it and acting affronted is just a clear way to paint yourself as a Weird Guy that people may should start investigating for either being crazy or an outsider worth looking into. better to blend in. safer, at least. ]

I don't think it's a mind-control thing, though. What you post, where you go, what you buy — that's all tracked, if not outright catalogued. But I don't think some government organization is sitting there counting your synapse firings to figure out if you like red or blue better. They can just look at what shirts you bought last.

[ a shrug ]

Security's a big deal here. Public safety, personal security — passwords, digital door locks, all that stuff's huge. Without an ID, you can't access anything, but drop-offs like us... we're anonymous. You don't exist, as far as the world knows, which paints a pretty big target on your back the second you try to engage with anything. So we have a guy — actually, I dunno if El's a guy or not, it's never come up. [ she's never met them. it's all digital. ] But, whatever, we have El, and El will get you set up.

And then you can go do... whatever you want, I guess. I mean, if you start murdering people or robbing banks, we'll probably have to put you in time out, but. Within reason.

Timeout, huh?

[ he smirks, reaching to tip his glass back to swallow a little more of the alcohol. there's still a burn there but it's comforting by now, a reminder that he's still alive.

fucking hell, he's still alive. ]

What are the accommodations like there? Timeout, I mean. Just to see if it's a place I'd like to visit again.

[ not that he'd visited prison here before but it wouldn't be his first time around the block. ]

Do I look like the kind of girl to go in time out?

[ my, my, kovacs. don't insult a lady on the first drink. don't you have any manners?

but daisy looks more amused than anything else, couching her ignorance of the presumed safehouse holding cells (surely they had to exist) in witty banter and the pointed sip of her drink. unlike him, she doesn't need to inhale it. ]

I'll have you know I'm a law-abiding citizen who never breaks the rules.

[ so... fake... ]

Oh, so you're boring. Good to know.

[ really, that's what he's going to take away from her lies. she was a boring person who didn't know how to have fun. and why would he wanna hang around someone who was boring? come on now, he could stare at walls for that. ]

That's unfortunate. Here I was hoping to just have all kinds of fun with you.

[ no, not really. all talk. he could walk the walk but he really just liked to talk. ]

Hopes fucking dashed.

You got me. Super boring, no fun whatsoever.

[ she can't even say that with a straight face. didn't she just get called out for sneaking into a tent and getting paparazzi photo'd? ]

I don't think you're exactly my fun guy type. But please, enlighten me on all the fun you were hoping for so I can reject you properly.

[ so she can crush your hope even more? sure. ]

No one rejects me. [ people rejected him all the damn time. ] But, I'm not gonna tell you anything. Means you don't get a chance to reject me and I can live in hope.

[ or forget about this conversation in five minutes. ]

That's what they call thinking ahead. [ he taps the side of his head and nods. ] Pays to be a fucking genius.

Is that right? [ murmured with a raise of her brow as she tips her glass to her lips. when she sets it back down again, daisy adds on: ] You look like the kind of guy who gets slapped in bars a lot, though.

[ for being a vulgar dickhead, probably. ]

Try me, genius.

Guess you'll never know the if that's the truth or not.

[ he'd been slapped a time or two, yeah. ]

But nah, I'd rather not. I don't want to make an effort for someone so boring. Look me up when you get a personality.

[ pause. ]

Sweetheart.

Very funny.

[ she is a sweetheart, though. just... not to you, dickhead mcgee. she has a very different tall foreigner to apply that kind of sweetness to. ]

I mean, we are in a bar, and I do have two hands. We could find out, if you want. [ knowing full well she could tell him not to hit her back makes the temptation so much stronger. ] It wouldn't be boring.

[ he stares at her to try and gauge if she's serious. or just stupid. maybe a little of both. ]

You don't want me to do that.

[ he's not afraid to hit a woman but, well, he'd just gotten here and all. might be a bad look. not that he cared about that but still. maybe he was trying to turn over a new leaf.

(he wasn't.) ]

You're the one who thinks I'm boring.

[ she turns her attention back to her drink for a moment, sloshing the liquid side to side in her glass. ]

I could tell you to smack yourself, you know. [ she very pointedly is not doing that. ] I'm not boring just because I'm not into you.

ARRIVAL LOG 008

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