ARRIVAL LOG 009

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Tokyo
WHEN: October 10
WHAT: The ninth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #009

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 sharp, cold breeze that blisters your cheeks as you walk through a thick, cold snow. That soon fades, replaced with warmth. 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 heavy winter coats, water-resistant pants, and snow boots, hair recently cut but at various stages of growth and haphazardly tucked under warm winter hats. You're all 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, though due to the storm there's hardly any visibility through the 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, landing gingerly in the snow. 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, there's the sound of a high howling wind and that same blast of cold that signals at being somewhere else, combined with a sea of white as far as your eyes can see. 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, most of them climb back into the vehicle and close the doors. One stays behind, pointing you and whoever else is near you to one of the closest buildings. "In there," he orders, just before he interfaces with the doors and they slide open. "Stick around until your buddies come to find you. You'll know who they are."

Snow comes up to your knees on this city street, and you're left with no idea of where you are or why you've been brought here. But you'll feel compelled to move toward the building that the guard pointed at and step inside. In fact, you'll have no choice but to follow that order. Once you're in, he closes the doors behind you and hops back inside the vehicle. The engine powers up again, and then the large truck lifts up slowly and flies off.

Inside you'll find the lobby of what seems to be a corporate building. After taking note of the fact that there's a small group of other people dressed in similar clothes who are also confused about how they got to this place, you'll be able to warm up and try to figure out what's going on. For now, it's impossible to exit the building. The same door you came in won't open no matter what you try, so you're all stuck for now.

But don't worry, help is on the way.

◉ 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.

> WATANABE CORPORATE BUILDING

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 know you all were wondering what would happen if we had a batch of new arrivals while you're all out on your little field trip, but it turns out that they've all landed in New Tokyo too. They're holed up in the lobby of a corporate building, so make your way over and escort them to the PRESERVE dorms. Try for a warm welcome, okay?

At the lobby where the new arrivals have been dumped, they'll find that there's a check-in desk which is currently unmanned, and on the wall behind it there's a logo mounted which reads "Watanabe Corporation." There's no one to be found here and no one to greet them. The good news is that the building is heated, meaning that those heavy coats can probably come off for now. Further in on the ground floor, there's a set of six elevators that presumably lead up to the many floors of the skyscraper, but they're non-functional, and there don't seem to be any accessible stairs either.

For now, all the newcomers can do is make use of the comfortable chairs in the lobby and commiserate among themselves about what's going on. There's a water cooler and some cups to make use of as well, all of it made of biodegradable material, but there's only so much. Try to share.

The Displaced who received a message from El will have also received a GPS pin showing the location of the new arrivals. At this point, the promised supplies (which includes clothing appropriate for the harsh weather, along with additional foodstuffs to stock the dormitory kitchen) have come in compliments of PRESERVE. Everyone will be allowed to leave the dorms where they've been cooped up for the last two days to explore the city or go help out the newcomers.

Getting around a city covered in snow is a little more of a challenge. Going by foot is an option, although most of the streets haven't been shoveled yet and it will be slow-going. It's more feasible to make use of a hover bike. There's a garage connected to the dormitory that's stocked with twenty-some bikes. While they don't function perfectly well over snow and reckless driving with such poor visibility could easily lead to a cold and painful crash, it has to beat walking. If you don't how to drive, guess you'll have to find someone who does. (The bikes can seat two.)

> PRESERVE DORMS

With the help of the current Displaced, the new arrivals will be brought back to a dormitory building managed by PRESERVE. PRESERVE is a world-wide relief organization that focuses on environmental conservation and disaster relief. While a good number of Morningstar agents have joined up with PRESERVE thanks to their charitable activities and because they're UN sanctioned, it is not an organization that's affiliated with Morningstar. As a group, they are entirely pacifistic in their ideals – they believe the world can be saved through being conscientious.

The Displaced are here because they agreed to help PRESERVE with a very different disaster, but that's now a very severe and uncommon snowstorm. This is where they're all staying during the trip, so while this isn't anything close to home, it will have to do for now. A representative from PRESERVE by the name of Nico has been hanging around the dorms, ready to answer any questions from any of the Displaced, new or old. Nico is also a member of Morningstar, as well, though she'll be very hush hush about this fact when around her fellow PRESERVE members.

Newbies will be allowed to pick out additional clothes and gear from a cache of supplies (there's coats, thermal underwear, boots, scarves, hats, gloves, and anything else that would be needed to survive the intense cold), and they'll also need to figure out which of the rooms has an opening where they can sleep. It's four people to a room, with the use of two sets of bunk beds, and space was already limited before the newcomers got added to the mix. Hopefully peace can be maintained and there won't be too much fighting over who gets top bunk.

Other than the rooms, the dorm building has a kitchen, a large common area with comfortable couches and chairs, communal bathrooms, and a small, modestly stocked infirmary. There's also a viewing room which is a large space furnished with bean bag chairs and other comfortable things to lounge on, and a large blank wall that's meant to be used for group viewings of movies, shows, etc. This requires one character to "throw out" their feed from their neural implant onto the wall, and anyone who wanted to watch with them would need to sync up with their ID to watch along. Anyone not synced would just see a blank wall – and unfortunately, that does include anyone new.

There are other PRESERVE volunteers staying in this dormitory and milling about. Many of them already had supplies, so they've been in and out since the Displaced arrived.

◉ The drugs making new characters compliant will remain in their systems for a few hours after their arrival at the dorms 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 to the dorms, 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.

◉ Normally, new characters are confined to a safehouse for 4 days before they can leave and explore the city. Given that these newbies have arrived under unorthodox circumstances, that won't be the case for them. They'll be able to come and go from the dorms, but given that it's a frozen tundra outside, they'll at least want to prep first. At some point during this adjustment period, you can assume that El will contact them and work on setting up their IDs. There is no law enforcement around in these conditions, so anyone wanting to head out can.

◉ New characters won't be able to abscond to somewhere else in the world, as a lack of ID means no tickets or travel papers.

◉ While most businesses in New Tokyo are shuttered, a few convenience shops remain open near PRESERVE's dormitories because they know they can make money off volunteers. New characters won't have any means of paying, as they don't have a registered ID. They'll have to see if a kind soul will spot them the credits if they want something.

> RELIEF EFFORTS

With the new arrivals successfully recovered and supplies delivered to keep everyone warm in the harsh conditions, it's time to set out and fulfill the reason for everyone being here: to offer support and relief to the population affected by the harrowing storm. Nico will provide the Displaced with the information they need to get their boots on the ground and make a difference. There are a number of ways that she'll suggest to help out.

◉ First, she'll deliver a word of caution. While New Tokyo is a large, entirely steel city that runs deep underwater, most of its citizens have evacuated to the upper levels and are huddling down in various locations hoping for some relief. Heading deeper in the large city structure could prove dangerous. In this emergency, heating is centralized on the upper levels of the entire man-made metal city structure, while the lower levels are frigid and dangerous at this time. The only heating revolves around the trains coming and going, and their schedules have been largely delayed thanks to the storm.

◉ Delivering food, clothing, and medical supplies. With power cut off from most homes and all of the citizens having been cautioned to stay indoors and conserve warmth, there are a lot of people running low on food stores. Those who live in impoverished areas are even worse off, with little insulation in their homes. The threat of some people freezing to death is real, so getting the needed supplies to those people could allow them to hold out until power is restored or the storm has passed. Nico encourages people to travel to these neighborhoods in pairs for safety reasons, and again, the hover bikes will come in handy here. Supplies can be carried in heavy-duty backpacks or in a side-car attached to the bike, and all of this is provided by PRESERVE.

◉ Shoveling snow. For those of the Displaced who aren't opposed to grueling manual labor, one of the largest concerns is getting the major streets cleared of snow so that transportation is easier. The train lines also need to be cleared off so public transit can eventually be reinstated, so assuming they're not afraid of heights, the Displaced will get access onto the train tracks that crisscross above the city to clear the snow off. Some homes are also completely snowed in, trapping the residents inside, so those will also need to be cleared. There's no shortage of work to be done. PRESERVE will provide the snow shovels, and they have access to a single snow plow that can be used in shifts by anyone who's got a driver's license (also found in the garage). Nico will also hand out hot packs. Everyone should be bundling up, but in the event that someone takes a fall or ends up with too much snow-to-skin contact, the hot packs will help stave off the cold and prevent frostbite.

◉ Missing persons. There have been multiple reports of missing persons sent into PRESERVE, and the Displaced will be assigned particular people to go look for, if they let Nico know they're interested in this task. She'll give them the description of the missing person and their last known location. This could be anywhere within the city of New Tokyo -- a shopping district, a residential area, a park, etc. If they manage to find the missing person, they'll be instructed to take them to the closest PRESERVE relief center so they can receive medical attention and be reunited with their families.

◉ Restoring power. Turbines are jammed due to ice build-up past any conceivable norm, and need to be carefully thawed and given a jump from a backup battery pack. This is a highly dangerous, but necessary endeavor. The turbines are located offshore due to the fact that New Tokyo primarily generates energy through tidal power. When working correctly, these offshore turbines then feed energy into local sources within the city. For those who have any sort of experience with electrical work, they'll be directed toward areas in the city where covered electrical boards interconnected with the city's branched power source have been buried. They'll need to be cleared of snow, checked, reconnected, and made ready for when the turbines begin to flow again.

While the new arrivals are welcome to help out with these relief efforts if they wish, it certainly won't be expected, given that they're still getting adjusted to everything that's going on. They're allowed to stay in the warm confines of the dormitory building until everyone returns to New Amsterdam, if that's what they would prefer. As for the rest of the Displaced, there will be some expectation that they're going to contribute. That's the whole reason they came all this way, isn't it? And it's not like Nico knows that some of them didn't actually sign up for this.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

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 until October 14th (OOCly, April 25th). All posts they make on the network until that point will be anonymous. During this time 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.

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 April/May 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 April 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 May 1 and close on May 8 at midnight UTC. 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

[blyat]

[It makes the indecision easier when Abel comes to him, wobbling up on unsteady feet and clearing some of the distance between them. The last few steps belong to Cain. He's there in moments, and he doesn't care if anyone else is looking on -- mind and attention wiped of all preoccupation -- strong, snow-damp arms sweep Abel into a tight, fierce hold possessing enough force to drag him onto his toes. There's a struggle to gentle the grasp after he's initiated. The frailty of the body against him is almost too much, worse than Abel's normally slight frame should be. One hand cradles the back of Abel's head as he pushes his own chilly windswept face down into the well-studied tuck of a shoulder. The blue blooms between them, yet unseen on Cain through the layers of his thermal clothing. Emotions are streamlined instinct: worry, fear, threads of guilt, a flood of relief.]

Abel, yeah, it's me... Are you okay? Are you warm enough? Did you get anything to eat?

[The motive of the embrace is purely selfish, and at the first sign of struggle he's prepared to let his arms fall limp and extract touch. Even his words are half-babbled out, rooted in nothing concrete. He can hardly think. Now that this moment has materialized, it feels like he's just in another dream. He has to be prepared to get ripped back into reality, awake and alone.]

[adsero]

[Abel barely hears anything Cain says, it's hard to process anything aside from the fact that he's alive, he's here, he feels the same. Even the tight hold is a strange comfort despite the twinges of discomfort in his arms and the slight vertigo. Eating? Cold? Yes, but who cares?]

[He wraps his arms around Cain as tight as he can manage now and rasps into Cain's ear.]

I thought I'd gotten you killed, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

[He starts shaking as everything else starts hitting him. Where are they? How did they get here? Where's the Reliant? Was the Alliance still looking for them?]

[blyat]

Hey, hey, it's okay. You didn't. I'm right here.

[Panic flares as soon as he feels Abel shaking against him, that voice ragged from disuse near his ear, every telltale piece that points toward the abduction and unknown experimentation they've all suffered to get here. He loosens out of the embrace, but only so he can raise both palms and cradle Abel's face, gloved thumbs smoothing over his cheeks, wiping away the last remnants of cold tear tracks.]

Look at me, Abel. It's gonna be okay, I'm fine, they patched me up soon as I got here. Just a scar left.

[Cain peels off the outer layer of his jacket and wraps it around the slope of those narrow shoulders, tucking Abel into the fabric. The large size seems almost to swallow him up.]

Take a breath. You want to sit down?

[adsero]

[His attention immediately snaps to Cain's face, he does as he's told. He would have done it anyway, of course, but the strange pull to be obedient is noted. He looks back at the chair briefly, back at Cain like he's going to disappear if he sits down, but eventually nods.]

[He pulls the jacket Cain put over his shoulders closer, and awkwardly backs up into the chair to sit.]

When did you get here? You weren't in the truck...

[blyat]

Oh, shit. Sorry. I forgot, uh...

[Backpedaling isn't going to help. Cain rubs his face, experiencing a strange rush of adrenaline and taxed fatigue at once, and wonders which he should pay attention to. Already setting a good impression by ordering Abel around -- he's so fucking stupid. He should think more clearly.

Out of the impulsive, desperate embrace, he keeps a strategic amount of distance between them. Space for Abel to breathe, space for Cain to look at him, survey for injury or harm or upset.]

It's not gonna make sense, but I've been here a while. Three months? Though we lost a couple days... forget it, that's another story. Time just doesn't work the same here. [He shakes his head, voice dropping low and frayed.] Is the last thing you remember me getting shot?

[adsero]

[The last thing he remembers...]

[Another complicated, layered look comes over Abel's face as he looks at Cain. They both know what passed between them, and Abel has only had an hour or so to process it under less strenuous circumstances. He's been lied to, he's been used by the people he swore his life to, and even that wasn't enough to kill what was still apparently in his heart.]

[Slowly, Abel shakes his head.]

No, I remember more than that. [Abel leans forward, elbows on his knees, clenching his hands tightly until he can barely feel them anymore.] We were in the Reliant, the fleet was coming after us for treason. I shouted that we were taking fire and you... didn't answer.

[He feels sick, just as sick as he'd felt feeling that drop of Cain's blood hit his cheek. Abel feels the panic welling up around him again, the confusion and the conflict between what he knows is logical and healthy and what-- who-- he knows will comfort him.]

This wasn't supposed to happen. I told you we'd make it back, I don't know where we are but this isn't where we're supposed to be.

[blyat]

[The freshness, the newness of Abel's memory is as if he's reliving it himself, and Cain kneels down where he's standing to put them more at level with each other. He doesn't reach out to touch knowing what it might do, recognizing the uncertainty like a sore string wound tight between them, but he does want Abel to look him in the eye. To help him calm, and see that Cain's fine, he's not bleeding out in the cockpit. He never died (there, at least). And it wasn't Abel's fault, any of what happened.]

I know. We're not supposed to be here, but we're safe, Abel. The Alliance isn't here, nobody's gonna come after us. Couldn't find us if they tried.

[Dark eyes cast around them as he considers the other uprooted displaced.]

You see these other guys? They're all in the same situation. And there's more of us, too. Dozens. People who've been here as long as me or even longer, and nobody asked to come here, we got taken without our permission. Got messed with, and changed, and I dunno how to leave but it's better than being hunted down like a dog back there.

[It's not what he might have said, a month ago. Maybe even two weeks ago. But it's true. For a number of complicated reasons.]

Look, if you wanna talk to someone else, I can see if there's someone I know around. Or... I can take you back to the shelter they've got set up and explain whatever you want. Up to you.

[adsero]

No! [Abel grabs Cain by one shoulder, panicked like Cain is going to stand up and leave him to somebody he doesn't know who doesn't know what's happening between them. How could anybody understand? He can almost see the faux sympathetic looks, sad closeted gay boy falls for the first person who fucks him, has his heart broken almost immediately by a military plan. Still has feelings for him even though it was all fake.]

I activated the jump drive!!

[It's the only thing that he can think to say in that desperate moment where he thinks Cain's about to leave him. They both know what that means, but even Abel doesn't know how to reconcile it yet. But it's a fact.]

I knew you were dying-- if you weren't answering me or shooting, you were dying. All I thought about in that moment where the whole fleet was after us was how I promised you would make it back and... [He shrugs helplessly, on the edge of tears again.] I don't know. I don't know. But that's what happened.

[blyat]

Hey, I'm not going anywhere right now. It's okay.

[He doesn't know what to do. For the second time in only three days, he finds himself standing at an impossibly steep barrier, paralyzed with indecision over how to move around and past it. How sick he was with dread when he went to speak with Fitz and Markus, and that feeling returns now, redoubled, to see what he's done to Abel. How long he's wanted him here and how selfish that motive was.

At the hand on his shoulder, Cain remains still. Doesn't move back, doesn't stand, instead lowers himself to his knees on the ground and sinks a few inches closer. They're in public, even if it doesn't feel like it -- the rest of the world continues to unravel around them.]

I know. That doesn't mean... [Fuck, is this really going to happen here, though? He won't try to move Abel now. This is too important. But he does lower his voice, private between only them.] That doesn't have to mean anything. You did it 'cause you wanted to protect me, right? You're used to doing that. You're always watching my back. It doesn't...

[Have to be anything. A thick swallow, hesitancy pausing him. He doesn't want Abel to cry. What's the best thing to say?]

It was alien tech, who knows how it really works? Maybe it was just... a fluke. I mean, I barely knew, Bering didn't-- [Cain's teeth grit, but he pushes on.] He didn't tell me much about it. But, Abel, I'm not dying, and we're not on the Reliant. It's gonna be okay.

[adsero]

No, Cain, it's not a fluke, every single time I've activated it it's always... always been...

[Abel trails off and has a moment where he considers Cain. It's a vulnerable moment, he replays the moment where Cain insisted he didn't want it to be over, and he looks for a lie there. He can't remember the intonation, he can't remember it objectively, but what if he's coloring it now?]

I know it doesn't make sense, I know it's easy to say that it's a malfunction or a fluke, that makes it all go away. But that's not what happened. [He feels like he's right back on the observation deck, demanding the truth, waiting to hear Cain tell him what his orders actually were. Abel feels his spine coming back to him, the resentment and the anger steeling him in this moment.] I thought you didn't want it to be over. You lost it when Cook touched me, I know you did. Tell me the truth, don't explain it away.

[blyat]

You're seriously asking me this? Right now?

[He can't help it. Panic rises and locks itself in his throat, blocking the stream of his voice on that quick and thoughtless question, casting a furtive glance around the room. There's no privacy here, not like they had on the bridge -- just the stars, just the whole messy tangle of his mistakes aired out at last. Too much rides on the answer: he wants to give it to Abel with a clear head, not the gray depressive haze that's hung over him since he woke up on that train car. He wants Abel to know every second of every day he's spent thinking about him, and missing him, and wishing he could undo it all.

There's no time for that. Cain's shoulders are sloped low, half-slouched where he's kneeling on the ground, looking ridiculous in the wool hat and scarf and gloves ensemble. Smaller and less certain than the flashy, reckless Fighter who picked brawls and carried a knife in his boot and played at arrogant confidence. His voice is a ragged whisper.]

I meant what I said. I don't want it to be over. I wanted to tell you sooner, about everything, I just... [Got scared. Knew it wouldn't end well. Knew Abel would hate him, deservedly, and wanted to prolong their relationship to a selfish extent even as the guilt ate away at him.] Of course I lost it, he was going to kill you, fucking bastard should get shoved out of an airlock.

[adsero]

Where else do I have to be? [He demands sharply, raising his hands to indicate-- well just about everything. He's in clothes that aren't his in a place he doesn't recognize without a ship and without the Alliance apparently. When is a better time to ask about something like this?]

[Abel sits back looking down at Cain, looking like he might start crying again. Cain says it so easily, "of course" he says, but it's not that simple from where Abel sits. And it's the words that probably hurt Abel the most back then that he's holding up against the truth of this moment, and finding strong comfort in:]

So it's not "me or you" anymore, is it?

[blyat]

[Dark eyes drop to the ground, cowed, but he doesn't respond right away. If they were back in New Amsterdam, it would be better. They'd have to wait for the implant's ID processing period and acclimation, but -- he could take Abel home. Somewhere safe and private, sooner. He doesn't know how long they'll be stranded in this frozen tundra of a foreign megacity. But the fact Abel's here at all is a bright relief, and Cain can't abandon that.

So he faces the question as well as he can. Jaw clenched, shoulders a tight line, mind set.]

No, it's not. I stopped feeling that way a while ago. I didn't even realize it until shit started going wrong, when I should've done something, so I just... snapped when I saw Cook grab you. Sorry. It's my fault.

[Maybe they twisted his arm, maybe they blackmailed him, but he should have been brave enough to tell Abel first.]

But I would do everything again. I don't care if it gets me killed, as long as you get out.

[adsero]

[Abel has been lied to before, dozens of times. People have tried to take advantage of his position in life, built him up just to watch him be embarrassed, left him out of social gatherings intentionally-- but no one's ever pretended to have a relationship with him in order to earn his trust. It's a new kind of devastated that Abel hasn't felt before, something so painful that all he could do was berate himself for believing the Alliance would be different. Clearly it wasn't Cain's fault that he was so easily taken in, right?]

[In the moment, the anger and the shame had narrowed down his focus, he barely heard Cain on the observation deck and he sure as hell hadn't processed anything the way he should have. But now... well, like he'd said, where else did he have to be? Prison, blackmail, the mission turning into something more, if all of that wasn't true and Cain couldn't get anything more from Abel, he wouldn't be here wrapped in Cain's coat watching the Fighter grovel on the floor. But does Abel forgive him? Can he? In addition to his idealistic dreams of making a difference in the war unraveling, it feels like everything that kept him working harder and focused has been ripped out of him: waking up and seeing Cain sleeping next to him, feeling his hands pressing him down into the mattress because he asked for more, meeting those dark, fierce eyes framed by stars...]

[Maybe he could have that feeling back, if Abel forgave him. But he knows he's going to need more than Cain can give him in this waiting room-- time, care, reassurance that he's more than Cain's last chance for freedom. Now can be the start of that, at least.]

[Abel reaches to put his fingers under Cain's jaw, trying to gently get the other man to look at him. His face is pink from holding back his tears, but he looks determined nonetheless.] It's not your fault, and you're not allowed to sacrifice yourself for me ever, alright? [Abel swallows, trying to steady his voice.] I'm sure that sounds like what you should do for me at this point, but what am I supposed to do after? Carry all of this by myself and mourn you? [Cain's fine, he's not bleeding anymore, he's alive, he can come out of that particular panic-- but it's so hard when he thinks about Cain being so cavalier with his life in the face of all of this.]

We're partners, we take care of each other so that the both of us can make it through. In spite of everything... I still need to protect you, and tell you it's not your fault. We didn't have a choice, you did exactly what we had to do when everything fell apart. [Finally, the tears start falling down, and Abel shakes his head as though that would stop them and clear his head. It's a losing battle.]

And I need you to help me trust you again, because I want to, I don't want it to be over either. You're the deepest connection I've ever had with another person, but every part of me hurts too much to fix on my own. I can't do it by myself, I need you Alexei.

[blyat]

[It isn't that he wants to die for Abel, but he wouldn't change what he did that took him to the point of bleeding out across the Fighter's controls. He messed up. He should have told Abel sooner, and he was paying for that, and if it got Abel out of the hands of Cook, his life was worth the exchange.

It's possible death is no longer the black watchful shadow over his head, the thrill in risk, the ultimate end. He's had no time for reflection since rousing on the train surrounded by familiar faces. No time to reflect now, with Abel's fingers gentle under his chin, coaxing his head up to look upon that messy pink face as fresh tears streak down cheeks. The threadbare emotions inside of him are communicated plainly as sorrow, desperation, longing. He wants so badly to communicate his guilt and his responsibility over what happened, and maybe he is groveling, but it feels like the right thing to do. What Abel says almost feels too kind.

Alexei.

Cain's head lowers down, touching browline to Abel's knees, letting a brief wave of emotion pass through him. He schools it quickly. Then lifts his head up, exhales a breath, calms down.]

I'm not asking you to fix this... all this, yourself. You shouldn't have to fix everything. Let me work on it, okay? I'm gonna try. [Finally, he begins to drag himself to his feet.] Let's just go slow. Start from the beginning. Right now I need to get you to better shelter, can you let me do that?

[adsero]

[It's a natural movement to put his fingers through the (shorter...?) hair at the back of Cain's head. This is good, the little moment that speaks commitment to what Abel needs now. Whatever anyone said about Cain, they'd never seen this part that Abel loves too much.]

Yeah, okay. Anywhere is better than here.

[blyat]

Okay. C'mon.

[Action feels better than the quiet, uncertain, unraveling thing that now rests between them, set aside until they can figure out the next step. He wants to reach out and wipe the moisture from Abel's face, but a furtive glance at their surroundings -- and Abel himself -- makes him reevaluate. He doesn't know what's okay. What lines he should avoid toeing across for fear of setting this back further. Even if the words, I don't want this be over either, continue to loop in his mind. An insistent and hopeful echo.]

Here, I'll take this, but you gotta get bundled back up. [He reaches to retrieve the jacket from Abel's shoulders, then bends down to fetch the outer layers of clothing likely provided by their captors. Careful hands coax Abel back into them. A hat comes down over short blond hair, fingertips tucking a few tufts under the wool brim. Then the scarf, wound around his throat.] Fucking cold out there. And we're driving back. Ever been on a hoverbike before?

[adsero]

[Abel has seen Cain like this before in a much smaller capacity-- turning the corner in that cargo bay to find a blanket spread out just for them, so they could drink and watch the stars, was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. In the moment, it had turned an upsetting day completely around. He remembers the talk better than some of their nights spent fucking endlessly, though now the memory of it is peppered with Abel questioning everything. He stands up and relaxes his arms so Cain can get them back into the sleeves-- Maybe he did it because he heard about you talking with Praxis. His hair feels shorter while Cain tucks it back into the hat, he hadn't realized it before now-- No, you told him your day had been lousy, that's when he decided to do that. He tips his chin up so Cain can wrap the scarf tightly enough, it really is so cold, he felt the wind slipping in through any gap in his clothing-- It ended too strangely for it to be another lie.]

[Hoverbike?]

[Abel perks up a little, his eyes finally brightening in interest.] No, I've only been on a regular motorcycle. With all the snow out there though, it makes sense to ride over it. [He has questions of course-- what's the technology? How did they manage to make it small enough to fit on a bike? He's, strangely, a little excited to see it despite everything else going on.]

[He looks back at Cain, all bundled up, looking and feeling like a marshmallow. He pats his pockets for a moment before finding the gloves and starting to put those on.] I think this is the most clothing I've ever worn. So many pieces to keep track of...

[blyat]

[There's no real reason to pretend he doesn't want to do this, wrapping Abel carefully up in the protective winter gear. No reason to pretend he isn't interested in hearing about Abel's experience with motorcycles, or snow, or the differences in climate between their home worlds. Not when all of that is bared open between them now. This may be a tenuous, tentative new thread of their partnership, but Cain is more genuinely himself than he was in the military. He's had three months to make that transition, and it gets a little bit easier each day.]

Yeah, it's good for this kinda weather. I'll drive. Maybe when you've had some rest and eaten something, you can take one for a run. [A slight smile touches his lips, there and gone.] You look like you're drowning in all that gear. Gotta make sure a harsh wind doesn't tip you over.

[With one step back, he surveys Abel's new look to ensure he's well suited for the outside environment.]

... You can call me Alexei. It's not... somethin' I'm going by in public, only a couple of people know by accident. So. If you want.

[adsero]

[It does feel like Abel is slowly being let behind the curtain, seeing the whole of who Cain is behind all of the secrecy and distraction-sex. Every time Abel got close to some part of Cain that he wasn't meant to see, he'd been pushed back. But these glimpses, these moments where he sees something he hasn't before, Abel embraces them. Cherishes them. This small smile as he looks at Abel, ridiculously bundled, it's precious. Abel smiles back, embarrassed, disappearing a little lower into his scarf.] It was a little touch-and-go on the walk from the van.

[He stands at attention for Cain to survey his work, but he feels pretty solid now. But maybe that was just a pause to gather himself for what's next... Abel had thought that Cain would pitch his task name immediately, after what Abel said to him in the observation deck. That had been intentional, a slap to the face because that's how Abel fights-- with words. It wasn't kind, Cain had been upset too after all, that had just been a way to turn the hurt back on him. He regrets it now.]

I think it's going to be a while before I can call you 'Cain' without feeling like I'm punishing you-- when it's just us, I mean. I'm sorry, for calling you that on the observation deck. It was cruel. [He looks down at the middle of Cain's chest, clearly replaying the moment in his mind and regretting it.] I still like the idea of you calling me Ethan. So. If you want...

[blyat]

[It hurt then, and the reminder of that memory is a sharp sting, but it's not as if Abel can be blamed. He gives a tight, quick shrug of shoulders.]

Had every reason. Handled it a lot better than I might've, didn't even try to punch me in the face. [Meant to be a tease however off-color, Cain's mouth twitches in another brief hint of a smile.] So... Ethan, then.

[Only the second time he's said it aloud, but it feels good. Sounds right. And it has Cain's chin dipping down, uncharacteristic self-consciousness bristling up in him, a wave of awareness. Surreal to realize Abel is here at last, after so many weeks of imagining this, wanting it with every selfish fiber of his person. He turns toward the exit, glances back.]

Ready to go?

[adsero]

If you think I'm handling this better than you would have, just wait until I don't feel like my head is full of rocks. [Also mostly an off-color tease, though Abel still feels like the whole treason-jump-drive-van-snow-kidnapping-here's-Cain thing has put off a lot of the thinking he needs to do. Cain always expressed himself externally, if only he knew everything that went on when Abel was quiet. Right now it feels like dozens of monsters are waiting for their turn to do their song and dance, and he'd have to give each one its due consideration.]

[Suddenly he's exhausted again.]

[At least until he hears his name, not pleading with him, just like Cain's trying it out for the first time. Abel likes it, the vowels somehow sounding softer than when someone else rushes through it. He realizes he's staring after Cain, having processed the question but the answer hasn't come out yet. He reaches for Cain's hand, like they've done before on their way back to quarters.]

Let's go.

[blyat]

[There's a dry little breath of laughter, one quiet bark, because he gets it. Too much to digest, too much going on, he doesn't blame Abel at all for needing some time. Maybe he'll get that punch later after all. Cain would take it -- knows he deserves it no matter how much Abel absolves him of the entirety of the blame. So what if he got his arm twisted into it? He still took the contract. He wanted his freedom badly enough to hurt someone else to get it.

His priorities just... changed, somewhere along the line. He's startled when Abel's hand wriggles into a loose grasp around his own, knuckles flexing to thread their fingers together. A giddy knot hitches in his chest. It's something, more than he thought he'd get, maybe ever again.]

This way, sweetheart. [A familiar endearment, although with less of the usual crass bite his tone is prone to carry. Cain leads them back outside where he left the borrowed bike parked in the snow, stopping to push a pair of goggles into Abel's hands, and then a helmet, both stowed in a storage compartment above the back wheel.] I won't go too fast, but you're gonna want to keep your arms around me tight. Got the strength for that?

[adsero]

[Yes, usually that word was reserved for when Abel was being just a little precious about something, and he took the tease in stride. Cain called him all kinds of things, baby, sweetheart--]

['He called you a slut!']

[...probably that. But it's soft now, and Abel squeezes Cain's hand to indicate he appreciates it. It's the one point of familiarity he has right now, he's going to hold onto it both literally and figuratively.]

[He follows Cain out with his eyes on their hands, trusting him to lead them for once, wincing when the bite of cold air hits him again. Abel wants to go back to the climate controlled interiors of the Sleipnir, he doesn't like this at all. It takes him a moment after Cain hands the gear to him to figure out that he should put the helmet on over his hat instead of taking it off-- then he has to take the helmet off anyway to put the goggles on first. Too many pieces, too much for him to keep track of right now.]

[But he nods anyway.] Yeah, I can do that. [He climbs onto the back of the bike, the only thing he's felt graceful doing this entire crazy day, and wraps his arms around Cain. Not some polite, leave-room-for-Jesus thing-- he's right up against his back, exhausted and cold.]

It's odd being back here, but I don't have to do much so that's nice.

[blyat]

[Much quicker with the motions of gearing up, Cain's hands settle over the handles of the bike as he straddles it, legs loose and splayed to either side of the vehicle, patient and waiting. He'd help, but he has to spend that brief interlude of time tracking their route back with the implant's GPS, which will appear externally as though he's staring in hard and concentrated silence at the hoverbike's windscreen.

And then Abel's there up against his back, arms a vice around his waist. Warm even through the layers of clothing. Guiltily, it feels good. One of his gloved hands lowers to squeeze Abel's forearm and tug it centimeters tighter, just for good measure. A quick neural handshake starts up the bike's near-silent electric motor.]

You can always drive me around later if you want. [Soft, a gentle offering.] But you'll have to bear with my driving for now. Promise it's not total shit.

[They had vehicles on Mars, after all, even if the high-end models were reserved primarily for stationed military personnel. Colonists could still get their hands on a snowmobile here and there.

Cain reaches up, pushes the vizor of the helmet over his face, kicks the bike's stand back and rolls out toward the white wasteland ahead.] Wind's about to get real cold, keep your head down.