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

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[larkers]

Abel ★ STARFIGHTER

[adsero]

[001 - waiting]

[We were supposed to go back together.]

[The gentle movement of a vehicle is expected, but there's a person where his nav console should be. And not anybody he expected. That in itself is enough to scare the hell out of him, make him wonder where he was, where the Reliant ended up-- Cain.]

[He turns his head, and even that is a strain. It takes him seconds to recall Cain's face and compare it to everyone else's in the transport. He's not there. It takes him another minute to face forward again and try to form a question to ask the person in front of him, but he can't even move his jaw. He's so warm, bundled up tighter than he's ever been in his life, he feels like he's weighed down in addition to being unable to move his limbs. Where's Cain? Where's his Fighter?]

[Bleeding and unresponsive just a moment ago, his slow brain provides, and now he's in the back of a truck with strangers. Who knew how much time had passed, who knew if Cain was even still alive.]

[This is over between us, Cain.]

[He's blinking tears out of his eyes as some strange person examines him, as another tells him to walk towards a building, and walk he does because what else is he going to do? Trudging through more snow than he's ever seen in his entire life, the tear trails are freezing on his face as he looks around at the people he's walking with. He can't see, everyone's too bundled, so he just shouts: 'Cain! Cain!!']

[It's warmer inside, but he doesn't know what to do. Wait? For what? For the storm to ease, for the snow to melt? He doesn't even know where he is, where his ship is, if he's even with the Alliance right now. A quick scan of the faces he's with, and he has a chilling realization-- there are women here.]

[If he's still in Alliance custody, he is far, far from the Sleipnir.]

[The walk was a lot, so he sits down near the water cooler and keeps staring at the faces around him as though one of them will turn into a living, healthy Cain. No luck, but he stares more than is probably polite. Even when caught staring, it takes him a moment to turn his pink, wet face away because he's so caught up in the moments prior to this. Every time he tries to think about what's next, he gets dragged backwards-- he knows the jump drive worked, he saw the flash, he felt the spike of pain in his forehead.]

[As over as Abel thinks it should be, all he wants is to know that Cain lived. How pathetic can you get?]


[002 - free to a good home]

[Eventually Abel curls up on a few of the seats, exhausted despite having done practically nothing. Every time he has a thought that maybe he could go back into the snow and find the transport, maybe use the elevator to explore the building, do something to contact the Alliance-- the plan unravels in his mind and he stays. Wait. Just wait for your buddy. Wait for your bleeding, unconscious, probably dead, expendable colonist buddy.]

[He lays there, popping the top off his biodegradable cup and popping it back on, staring at the wall opposite. He hears the door open but he doesn't bother to move-- what's the point? He failed, he didn't protect anybody, he landed them somewhere, lost the Reliant, and Cain was dead because Abel hadn't run fast enough. God, let's walk to look less suspicious across a military hangar after shooting our commanding officer? What was he, an infant?]

[He's too buried in all of the ways he's fucked up in the past twenty four (?) hours that he doesn't bother to look up when their 'buddies' arrive and someone's hovering over him. Nice knees, who cares.]


[003 - comfort food]

[This is a lot.]

[It's easy for Abel to realize that he's not connected to a network that feeds information directly into his brain. He accepts that somehow he's in New Tokyo where there's two feet of snow on the ground and he's now part of a relief effort. He's even strangely relieved that there is no Federated Alliance and the Reliant is somewhere to be determined.]

[What he can't figure out is what to do with himself now that there's no lab, no maintenance, no training. As fun as laughing at a blank wall sounds, and riveting as sitting in comfortable chairs and contemplating existence is, Abel finds himself in the kitchen trying to figure out something to eat. He's politely going through the cabinets, taking stock of what he has to work with before making a decision.]


[004 - high voltage]

[At least he doesn't need a network connection to do what he does best: engineering. Abel of course immediately volunteers himself to work with the team getting the power grid up and running again. He's not much of a physical laborer, but he knows when a circuit is questionable and he usually knows how to fix it-- usually. Who's double checking his work/helping him with the snow?]


[005 - wild card]

((Or just hit me up for a totally new thing, I'm open to all ideas! :D))

riku replica, kingdom hearts.

[replicates]

i) arrival (city street + lobby).

[ he's never seen snow before.

he's seen some form of it, though — vexen (that's not his name anymore, isn't it?) was always as cold as the ice he wielded, just as harsh and biting as the wind that cuts against his exposed nose and cheeks. as bundled up as he is, he feels unprepared for the mass of white that greets them, and the swell of something that could be rage or bile at the sense of compliance he feels at the guard's command is only softened just enough by the novelty of it all.

this experience is still his, something that isn't from riku's memories. he's treading unknown territory on his own now, and that fills him with the determination to wade through the snow anyway, if a little awkward and ungainly. a pseudo island boy is still a pseudo island boy, even one that should have been, by his own design, dead.

it's when he's sorting through that technicality that he stumbles just outside the doors of the lobby, losing his balance and falling face first to eat snow. nice. great first impression. ]

ii) dorms.

[ out of one prison and into the next.

well, sort of. the dorms are at least much better than anything he'd ever gotten back at the castle: having his own clothes and his own bed is more than the organization had ever thought to provide him with. he takes the extra supplies quickly, as if expecting someone to come along and snatch it out of his hands afterwards, but that doesn't happen. he spends most of the day without touching them, but no one comes to him demanding payment. they're his. it makes him even more suspicious about everything, though he can't deny that the warmth is nice.

he spends most of the first few days slinking around the common areas, quiet as he watches people come and go. before he even starts wondering about whether or not riku is here, he has the answer already: someone catches his gaze and a spark of recognition enters into their eyes. he watches that same spark dim in confusion, the deepening furrow in their brow — ]

Yeah, [ he says, before they can get the question out. riku? ] But the two-point-oh version. Sorry.

[ he doesn't sound very sorry at all. just another day in the life as a replica. unfortunately, he isn't completely aware that cloning is illegal just yet. ]

iii) relief efforts.

[ he's taken to tucking up all his hair beneath the hat whenever he goes anywhere now, at least until he can get his hands on some hair dye. but this works out for as long as they're in new tokyo, and he signs up for whatever relief work they have. staying confined in one space was never something he took well to, and he figures he can learn more about the world while going outside anyway.

whether it's delivering supplies, finding missing people, or even shoveling snow, he does it all without complaint. he's the first to go out onto the train tracks to clear the snow, despite his graceful spill earlier. practice makes perfect, right? ]

iv) wildcard

[ feel free to bump into him wherever and whenever, as well as mistake him for the real riku! he'll mostly be snooping around the common areas of the dorms, taking food like some kind of prickly stray cat, and occasionally contemplating what it's like to be a real boy. PM me if you have any questions or want to plot anything out! ]

Angel | Borderlands

[girlcorrupted]

01. HARD REBOOT (closed to Markus)

[ Death wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be calm, blissful nothingness, not waking to the familiar feeling of sedation medication beginning to wear off, to cold air and unfamiliar voices. For moment Angel thinks that maybe it was all a dream, followed by the more harrowing thought that it hadn't been a dream, her plan just hadn't panned out, and there would be hell to pay for that.

Both these hypotheses are squashed as her vision finally snaps back into clear focus, just in time to skip over the panic of being constrained and instead focus on the panic of everything else as she's lifted from her seat and set out in the snow. It takes only moments, as she walks where directed, to conclude that Toto, we're not on Pandora anymore. Or anywhere else she's observed for that matter.

The lobby is more warm and inviting than anywhere she's been in years, and she sheds her coat placing it atop one of the verycomfortable looking chairs which she immediately takes a seat in, her legs already tired from the scant amount of walking she's done.

She has many questions, as she looks around and takes in her surroundings, but if this is indeed what the afterlife consists of her complaints are few. ]

02. INITIALIZING (OTA)

[ The goings are somewhat treacherous- especially so given Angel hasn't experienced weather, let alone the extreme kind, first hand in so long- but they finally make it to the dorm, red nosed and blistered cheeks.

The information she's gained in the interim mainly served to open up two new questions for each given answer, but it's enough that she can roll with it. Calculated as Jacks every move tended to be, and by extension her own, there were plenty of moments where improvisation was needed. Anyone could adapt, she knew that well.

She peeks into one of the small rooms, four beds stacked and tucked neatly against the walls. It's no five star hotel but that is hardly a concern to her, anywhere- anywhere is better than where she escaped from.

This particular room also isn't empty, someone else (or several someones) having made claim to a bed or two. It will take a while, relearning the ability to converse in person again, but she'll speak up quietly from the door frame. ]

I'm sorry to intrude, but is there any bed space left in this room?

03. W1LDCARD

[ Want to play something specific? Hit me up on plurk @weirdtakoyaki or discord memefkkr#0628 ]

marcos diaz | the gifted

[heliophilous]

I » WATANABE

[ there's a headache pounding behind his eyes when he comes to. his vision blurs, tips to the side and he closes his eyes, trying to clear his head. he can feel the bounce of a vehicle and the feeling cold seeping through the metal of the car.

car? that wasn't right. the last thing he remembered, he'd been getting the hell away from the purifiers after john's sacrifice. there were no cars involved and there were definitely no restraints anywhere. he pulls at them, jaw tightening to the point of pain but he can't break free and he can't —

he can't get his powers to work either. marcos doesn't want to think about what that means. he sits and he fumes. when the vehicle rolls to a stop and he's shuffled out, he tries to get someone to answer his questions but they shove him and go on about their business.

he's left in the snow and he's not alone. but he doesn't recognize anyone. these faces aren't from the underground. he doesn't know what's happened. with little else to do, he heads to the only piece of shelter he can see.

his fingers are numb by the time he pulls open the door and when he reaches up to card snow out of his hair, he realizes that it's no longer there. the frown on his face deepens but he can't think straight, not when he's not as cold as he is.

once he's inside, he blows heat into his hands and then tries to get his power to work again.

he fails.

that's...that's not possible. they couldn't just be taken away. they could be suppressed but not taken away. sinking into a chair, marcos rubs his hands through his hair (what's left of it, at least) and closes his eyes again.

he can feel the exhaustion in his bones but there's no way he's going to sleep. not now. not until he figures this out. ]

II » PRESERVE

[ the headache hasn't gotten any better by the time they've gone from one place to another. marcos had resisted at first, untrusting of anyone despite the reassurances and information he'd been given. he'd been played before and he wasn't going to let it happen again.

but he couldn't really deny that he was happy to be out of the cold. it had been a long time since he'd seen snow and he doesn't think he'd ever been in a climate like this. it's so cold that it feels like it's freezing his blood.

once inside, he finds himself near the clothes first, picking out a few long sleeved shirts, jeans, scarves, sunglasses. anything to keep warm.

he doesn't stay in one place for too long, wandering from kitchen to infirmary to common area and back. his fingers twitch as he keeps trying to bring his ability up and it fails every time. what had they done to him? plenty of mutants had been experimented on, he knows, but it had never happened to him.

until now? no way to be sure.

god, his head hurts. ]

III » WILDCARD

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

soldier: 76 | overwatch

[personalwar]

i. arrival / lobby

[ The shift is incredibly jarring. At this point, Jack has done this song and dance enough times that the whole idea of waking up somewhere unexpected isn't so strange (Thesa Station and that cave made of ice being two more recent examples), but that makes it no less a point of panic. There isn't much time to process what's going on, and his head is so cloudy (not from the alcohol he can recall drinking the night before, but something else) that he's out in the cold before he knows it, with little opportunity to resist.

He's not anywhere in Olympia, or Wyver, or Nadril. Nothing about this place is familiar, while being extremely familiar all at once. Even if the city is covered in snow, it's still definitely a city, the type which reminds him immediately of home.

Earth — it can't be. The Storm was supposed to have devoured it. They'd been told time and time again they wouldn't ever be able to return. But it's not like he'd ever really trusted the Natha, either.

His legs move on their own, it seems, leading him to the front doors of one of the many tall buildings on this street. He's greeted by heated air, and that's been the only truly welcome part of this experience so far.

One of the first things that he does, even before commiserating with the other people who've ended up here with him, is turn back to the doors to try and force them open. Even if the weather outside looks gnarly, and even if he's no fan of the cold, he's even less a fan of being kept somewhere against his will. He slams his fist against the doors with all of his strength, which makes a loud noise and causes the entire wall to vibrate under the impact, but the doors don't budge.

After that, he'll be busy speaking with Gabriel in a quiet corner or pacing around the lobby like a caged animal. He needs answers, and no one here seems to have any. Whatever rescue is apparently coming for them, they need to hurry up. ]

ii. dorms

[ The more that Jack sees of this place, the more it sinks in that El Nysa is a thing of the past. After spending so much of his time there, after traveling into its past to avoid destruction, this all feels surreal. Like a dream, almost. It's Gabriel's continued presence here, along with his acknowledgment that he also remembers everything from El Nysa, that makes him more certain that this is in fact reality and not another strange ruse compliments of the Natha or El Nysa's gods.

This place is called New Tokyo, he's been told. Normally everyone else who's arrived here under strange and unknown circumstances lives in New Amsterdam. Earth, as his gut had told him. But not an Earth he recognizes.

It's a lot to take in, and the time in the dormitory-style lodgings at least gives him a chance to get his thoughts in order. Not that 76 is ever one to stay idle, and so he'll be moving around the building with an urgent sense of purpose. He'll either barge into someone's room while searching for an adequate place to stay, or ransack the infirmary in search of anything sharp he can use. Eventually, he'll stop by the kitchen to get some food in him.

It's already been a long day. ]

iii. garage

[ When Jack learns the reason for why they're here in this snowstorm, he's not all that compelled to help. This may be Earth, but it's not Earth the way he remembers it. It's a future version of the place he once called home (no longer such a bizarre concept, now that he's experienced time travel firsthand), but there's the underlying sense that he doesn't owe any of these people anything.

He'd come to view El Nysa as the closest to home that he'd ever get, and he'd put his skills of use to help there, often doing the Natha's dirty work for them even though there was no love lost between them. Here, when everything is still so new and unexplained, it's hard to feel that same sense of duty.

That being said, Jack has never been good at sitting around and twiddling his thumbs. Eventually he makes it down to the garage to take stock of the hover bikes that he's heard mentioned. They look similar to the ones he's ridden before, but he knows that taking one out into that Godforsaken weather isn't going to be a particularly fun time.

When he notices someone else inspecting one of them, he steps up behind them and speaks up. ]

You know how to ride that thing?

[ Because, despite the fact that he's some old guy with a scarf half covering his face, he does. And he's also starting to get stir crazy. ]

iv. wildcard

[ If you want to do something that doesn't fit into these prompts, that's fine! I'm down for anything. You can hit me up at demonology to plot or just surprise me! ]

JIANG CHENG | grandmaster of demonic cultivation

[sandu]

> WATANABE CORP (for other arrivals!)

[ the snow; it's never snowed as hard as this in his memories - but then, this place is nothing like what he knows or believes. the glimpse of buildings through the storm gives him exactly zero bearings on where they are, and before he could think ( before he could stop to think ) he tucks himself among the group and begins to make the heavy cumbersome treck through the knee-deep snow to the nearest building that's pointed out their way; his limbs move almost automatically, shoving the snow away so he can move through it. he feels numb, almost, though there is also a muted anger bubbling beneath the surface, confused and ready to lash out but distant, making him clench his teeth against the faint reverberations and echoes of it as if a distant thunder.

coming out of the storm is a relief; jiang cheng stomps his feet, dislodging the snow that's caked onto his overcoat and boots, and without taking the time to catch his breath he stalks on, moving further into the lobby they find themselves in. the air is warm here, which means there should be a fire at least, and if there's fire there has to be people, right? but all he finds is empty space - a hall made of ( what he thinks ) is steel and stone, with nothing much else besides.

turning in his tracks, he whirls around to the nearest person, his eyes blazing: ]

You have a lot to explain. Now.

► MORE OPTIONS, also FOR THE RESCUERS;

[ while they are stuck in the lobby, jiang cheng would either be:

- trying to force the mysterious doors open ( elevator, but he has no idea what they are )
- pacing around the lobby with some killing aura that might potentially make people nervous if they ain't used to it
- fight or otherwise try to interrogate them because hey, these strange group of people arrived after dumping him into this weird place, what's up danger ??? ]

> PRESERVE DORMS

[ more of the same; stone and steel rooms that look like nothing more than rough storehouses in jiang cheng's eyes, though there are beds set up and other amenities both familiar and strange. it feels less like a building that people would inhabit and more like ... camping, more like some kind of organisation preparing itself for battle, with a distinct lack of finesse or comfort. he has little information regarding the how and why, except that he is here now and there's no possible way around it. jiang cheng accepts that, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it.

you will find him either barging into the dorm rooms with an armful of clothes he's been given, looking for a space. after that, maybe in the kitchens ( what the heck are technology? why do you people not have any fire? do they just expect people to eat cold food? ) or up on the viewing room / lounge, eyeing anyone who walks past like he would expect them to do something dangerous - and why are people staring at blank walls?? ]

► what's this guy doing out in the hallway;

[ but, first things first: jiang cheng isn't driven to moroseness or inaction in the face of it; he is more the type to stalk around like he owns the place, and he already feels restless and confined to this place. there are changes to his body that's more than physical - he feels for his chest, pressing his palm down against it and reaching out for the golden core within, but the aura is faint - like there is some kind of a blockade between it and him; and there is that old fear, that same helpless, childish panic that rises up - but he isn't a child anymore. there is still something there, a faint pulse much like feeling for a heartbeat, and jiang cheng breathes out slow - closing his eyes and concentrating. ]

► do you wanna build a snowman;

[ nobody necessarily stops him, and jiang cheng is used to doing what he wants, so he bundles himself up back in the clothes he's been given and steps outside - not because he likes ( or otherwise enjoys ) snow, but because it will be a better fate perhaps to be out there than being cooped up inside like chickens. everything is unfamiliar - he squints behind the goggles he's managed to find ( these foreign clothes, at least it kept him warm ) at the fiercely blowing snowstorm, the flurry of snow across his vision basically hiding most everything from view, though it has calmed down some since he arrived. he just picks a direction and walks, and even though he has no purpose in mind to be going that way, he at least looks confident. maybe you catch him coming from the other way, or follow him out into the snow? he looks like he knows what he is doing, even though he has no idea. please keep him from death. ]

> WILDCARD

[ if you'd like me to do any personalised TL using the setting or otherwise if you have any ideas, hit me up! jiang cheng has poison generation ability that's manifested through his hands and activated via skin on skin contact, so we can deffo use that! have fun with the weird nausea and headache, anyone? also, if there's any training grounds or whatever, jiang cheng would definitely want to do that in the next few days while they're stuck here. take him out to the shops... show him the wonders of modern convenience stores..... i'm good with anything! hit me up at sdat if you wanna discuss! ]

damon salvatore — the vampire diaries, cw: for vampirism, mentions of intent to harm

[corrosive]

ａｒｒｉｖａｌ （ ｌｏｂｂｙ ）

( in no instance is it considered a good time to flit in and out of consciousness, eyes bleary and mouth dry, fighting the very obvious pull of drugs. or at least, what his mind associates the haze with. he’s been dosed enough times over the years to place the disorientation and he’s certainly no stranger to the view of armored guards ( today it’s guards, yesterday it was wolves, tomorrow it’s ______ ). although, what he finds to be the most distressing is that he doesn’t remember being tranquilized with anything and for all intents and purposes, he should have somewhat of a tolerance to vervain as a precaution to something like this.

when he raises his face back up from nodding back off for ten seconds, he realizes he isn’t the only person in the vehicle. stefan, he thinks unbidden, quickly taking in every single face around him ( as much as he can anyway, around the winter gear ) because for a fleeting moment, the fear that lives deep within him isn’t centered around himself.

his brother isn’t on board, neither is elena.

every nerve in his body is singing for action by the time a guard gets close enough to unbuckle him and he can hear every thump, thump of his heart like a megaphone blaring in his ears. except damon can’t move. can’t surge forward with the speed he expects, even as he feels the veins becoming more prominent beneath his eyes and it takes every ounce of strength to suppress it. it takes everything and it just doesn’t make any sense.

and then he’s out in the cold, brisk air, trudging through the snow, propelled forward by the command to get inside. again, his thoughts are on staying in the vehicle, digging his heels in, ripping each of their throats out but he clambers into the cold regardless — body betraying mind.

it’s with a sick, sinking feeling that damon pushes on, waiting for his loophole. compulsion always has a loophole; he’d told katherine as much. as much as he’d like to stay still fuming, he does as he'd told. the rage outlasts the command because of course it does, yet there's nothing he can do about it. once he’s through the threshold, he turns sluggishly ( having more or less completed the order ) and slams his palms against the now closed entrance, sneering. if there’d just been a crack, just a mere few inches, he could have— )

What the hell are you looking at?

( maybe you noticed the way his face shifted back on the vehicle or maybe you’ve convinced yourself that’s some kind of side effect, better yet: a hallucination. maybe you’re just annoyed at the pointless display of aggression. either way, damon’s hands slide off the doors and he pushes away from it, remaining edgy and suspicious of the people he’s locked in with. )

ｐｒｅｓｅｒｖｅ ｄｏｒｍｓ， ｐａｒｔ ｏｎｅ．

( ugh. you know, there’s a reason he’s not attending college in his current “lifetime” back in mystic falls. his upper lip curls at the dorm room that he’s stepped into, sizing it up and very openly showing his displeasure regarding the whole ordeal. what a lovely shithole. truly. it’s quite plausible that the first room he walks into has three people in it already and that he makes eye contact with each one of them, before loudly announcing: )

Nope.

( and strolling right on back out. actually, he probably repeats that process several times over. feel free to chase him and call him on it. he’s used to a certain standard of living and while yes, he’s been accustomed to less, and he’s endured much, much worse . . . it’s still a shack that looks like it will blow over with the first strong wind of the year in damon’s eyes.

the longer the process goes on, he realizes that it’s slim pickings out here. inevitably, before he makes enemies of the displaced by hastily judging every single one of them, he picks a room and collapses on the first empty bed he sees. ( it might even be that he’s escorted—dragged—there and told to make good with the situation by someone more experienced. and yknow weirdly, he has no choice but to listen and think it’s a good idea for some bizarre reason. )

arms crossed behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, he waits for his moment. maybe someone’s already in the room with him, quietly minding their business or they’ve just stumbled in. they’re still getting his pleasant suggestion. )

So. How do we feel about arson? ( he’s handling this well if he says so himself. )

ｐｒｅｓｅｒｖｅ ｄｏｒｍｓ， ｐａｒｔ ｔｗｏ．

( sooner rather than later, he winds up in the kitchen because what the heck else is he going to do? cozy up on a beanbag with some poor slob like they’re his heartthrob at bible camp? like hell he’s doing that. he’s opening up cabinets with an inquisitive eye, scanning their contents, and probably raiding the fridge if there happens to be one ( and it’s stocked ), trying to concoct something remotely edible.

his rummaging isn’t exactly considerate.

he’s purposefully louder than necessary and if he finds ingredients that he deems to have merit, he sets each one of them down with a thud or a clink. what? like other people are supposed to be allowed to relax in this communal area while he’s miserable? come on, that’s ridiculous. it’s a transparent ploy to get anyone close enough to him to strike up a conversation, whether that’s negative or positive is anyone’s guess.

( he’s slept already, so nice try, but you won’t be able to boss him around and tell him to find some chill. )

damon’s restless. he hates small spaces and he despises people and uncertainty even more, and he’s hungry.

so yeah, perhaps it’s possible he doesn’t need to crank on the can opener that hard ( really, a manual can opener in the future??? ) and that it’s not necessary for him to do one little notch at a time, slowly, in a grating sound. if anyone looks up at him from a book or from their film, or their snack, he has a cheery grin for them. )

Oh. Sorry. Am I bothering you?

ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ

( come at me with something else if you're not feeling these scenarios. hit me up for plotting at talldarkangay if you want to hash out some details. )

reyes | overwatch

[gravemistake]

i. arrival/watanabe corp (for newbies)

[Gabriel is not so far removed from his lifetime as a black ops agent that he's accustomed to waking up in strange new places with little explanation. When he's not in control of a situation, or doesn't know where he is, he can assume that it's very bad news, and a cursory glance around the transport as he comes to indicates that this is not where he went to sleep last night.

Ordinarily, his first course of action would be to fight and subdue the guards (something he's more than capable of), but when he tries to move he realizes he's restrained and hazy, indicating that he's been drugged. Were he a little more coherent, he'd be impressed--it takes a lot of any given substance to render him loopy, so whatever he's been shot up with must be the good stuff.

Not that it makes the situation any less terrible.

Upon being herded into what seems like the lobby of an office building, Gabriel finds his faculties returning to him, enough to process that . Too little, too late, however, because they're locked in here and it would've been much easier to escape from a transport than a compound. Probably at this point they're just waiting for those guards to come back and kill them.

So he doesn't waste any time introducing himself to his fellow prisoners beyond a few cursory assessments of the crowd. Jack gets to punching the doors, but Gabriel prefers a different approach. When they come back--if anyone comes back--he's going to be ready. There's not much to work with, but Gabriel is good at improvising.

He takes a chair, and rips it apart bare-handed, though from the look on his face, it's not out of anger. No, Gabriel systematically dismantles the chair with purpose, and it's not quiet. Kind of weird. You weren't going to sit on it, were you? It is no longer a chair.]

ii. watanabe corp (for rescuers)

[Hey, remember that chair-bludgeon Gabriel made one prompt ago? As time passes, he positions himself alongside the doors to the lobby, so that when they finally open, he steps into the doorway and swings his twisted piece of chair-metal like a baseball bat, taking a good crack at whoever's walking through the door (you??).

Think fast!]

iii. dorms

[Even after it becomes clear that the guards aren't coming back, Gabriel remains wary of everything he's being made to do. There's only one person here he can trust, and everyone else is treated with a healthy measure of suspicion. Too wound up to sleep or even get some rest, Gabriel can be found snooping in most of the public areas, with little regard for who is currently using what space.

Are you getting settled in a room? Don't mind this guy barging in, checking for cameras and bugs, and leaving just as abruptly without so much as a hello. In the kitchen, trying to find a snack? He's rummaging through cabinets and drawers. Infirmary? Same deal, except he's stealing supplies. Picking through the available clothing? He's taking that beanie you want.

When all is said and done, he chooses a room and stations himself outside it--he and Jack will sleep in shifts, leaving him lingering out in the hall for a few hours at a time. Gabriel is not a small man, and not necessarily what you want to see while rounding a corner. And yes, he still has his chair-bludgeon.]

iv. relief efforts

[By now, Gabriel is pretty tired of cleaning up someone else's mess, but at least going outside into the city helps him get his bearings, especially if this is going to be where he has to stay for the time being. Figures he'd be handed a snow shovel and asked to dig out homes.

He's exceedingly strong, but everything's starting to ice over and getting the leverage he needs while bundled up in gear and in knee-deep snow is not an easy task.]

Give me a hand with this.

[From the tone of his voice, it's clear that's not a request. He hates this!]

v. wildcard

[I'll do whatever you want. Hit me up on plurk at whitticus.]

takeshi kovacs. altered carbon. ota

[resleeves]

I » RELIEF EFFORTS (DELIVERY)

[ it's too fucking cold to be out tromping through the snow but kovacs had chosen that over being a fucking welcome wagon to a bunch of new people. he wasn't going to sit and feed them coffee and pretend that everything was going to be okay because it probably fucking wasn't.

no one wanted him around to scare the shit out of these people so he'd taken himself out and decided to be the helpful person that he was. the snow quickly killed any spark of helpfulness that he'd had before leaving.

so, he doesn't even hesitate to shoulder some slow ass in front of him out of the way because he wants to get this done and get back inside to have a drink. he doesn't look back or try and help him up. ]

Get out of the way.

[ and he continues on, still trudging through the snow. ]

II » PRESERVE

[ you know what was annoying? getting into fights in a mess of snow. not that kovacs regretted what happened but he might have chosen somewhere warmer.

his knuckles are bruised, skin broken and bleeding and maybe that should mean a stop at the infirmary. instead, he grabs a napkin and slaps the cloth over it, wincing as he does. everything's gone numb and that just adds to his annoyance.

but, he hadn't killed the little prick so that was good news, right?

right. ]

III » WILDCARD

[ the first prompt is mostly for mercurio but if you wanna fight kovacs in the snow too, that's cool with me. otherwise, you can fight him afterward. feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

REY | STAR WARS

[forcevisions]

PRESERVE DORMS - BUNKMATES (mostly for keith, kaldur, and/or poe, but ok for visitors while she's sick)

[ a. The PRESERVE dormitories are cramped. Well, that's not entirely accurate. It's a warm, comforting space that's clearly designed for cohabitation, and Rey has never had to cohabitate before in her life. She skulks reluctantly, therefore, into searching out a familiar face that has already staked a claim over a room before settling her bag down. ]

You don't mind, do you?

[ Keith had clearly trusted her ability to cooperate with him enough to let her help pilot Voltron; there should be no reason they couldn't exist in the same space. And Kaldur, well, he'd been there too. She's left with an unexpected feeling of connection towards him. And she'd better get used to sticking close to Poe, since the Falcon was just as cramped. She's just not used to so many people being so close by. In the past, her apartment had always been her buffer from the overwhelming flood of people that came from living in the city.

That's gone, now. All people, all the time. It's a little stifling.

b. The ultimate outcome of close quarters is that after the first few days of relief efforts, Rey comes back feeling under the weather, and there's no real place to quarantine herself. She has claimed a top bunk for herself because it's easier to feel alone up there, but now she regrets it because having shed her extra outer layers of snow-soaked winter gear, she has to climb up there to bundle under the covers.

And once she's under the blankets, she doesn't really want to do anything but moan and roll around. Rey's not the sort for self pity--she doesn't succumb to it. But she's definitely sluggish and sleepy and hard to rouse, sneezing all the time and feverish, spending more of her time in that cramped four-person room than she ever really wanted to. ]

RELIEF EFFORTS

[ Rey does whatever she can to avoid shoveling snow.

It's not overt, really. There are many reasons that she sticks to the jobs that she has--she's done food and supply delivery runs before while the tent cities of New Amsterdam were suffering in the wake of the monster attack. She has experience there. And locating missing persons feels more personal, more productive for her, and heading out to the turbines is a natural application of her mechanical skill.

But she really, really doesn't like shoveling snow. She volunteers fast for the other jobs, and is disappointed to find when she arrives at the electrical boards for the turbine power plants that she will still be, in fact— ]

... Shoveling snow. [ How anticlimactic. Her disappointment is palpable. ]

illya kuryakin (tmfu) ota

[kgbs]

I » PRESERVE

[ the rooms are small but it is a testament to how small the train had started feeling that he welcomes it. the bunk beds get a grimace but he claims the top for himself and puts the bag with his sparse belongings on it before he ventures out.

the kitchen is his first stop where he goes about making something to eat. he can still feel the dreams clinging to him so doing anything and everything he can to stay focused. he doesn't want to go back to sleep anytime soon.

afterward, he wanders into the common room and takes a seat, sinking into one of the comfortable chairs. but, that feels a little too much like he's wasting time so soon enough he's up and out the door.

he doesn't return until much later, irritated with the world and cold to boot. being from russia, the cold doesn't tend to bother him much but being out in it for awhile plus an argument from earlier means he was grumpy and grouchy and wanting to block out the world when he got back to his room and the bunk where his legs hung off the edge. ]

II » RELIEF (MISSING PERSONS)

[ as soon as he can, he gets himself off the bikes. there is a big difference between the motorcycle he had ridden back in russia and bikes that seemed to float on air. that was just not his thing so he got himself off and decided to walk his companion back through the snow.

that might have been a bad idea because not even five minutes in, the person is complaining. illya tries to block it out but they just do not stop. he glowers and glares, walks in front of them, threatens them with leaving them behind but it doesn't stop. they pass a few people here and there but no one wants to take this talkative person from him.

it goes on and on and on until he's a surly ball of grouchiness when he gets back to the preserve. it is only when the person he'd gone to find disappears to find food that illya allows himself to relax. it does not last though because they come back soon enough to try and get illya to share a bag of potato chips.

no, they are not going to be new friends. absolutely not. illya point blank tells him that before turning on his heel and leaving. ]

III » WILDCARD

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

Ojiro Juniper (Sniper)

[deicider]

I. Dorm - Night. Item Arrival.
[Sniper wakes up to a weight on their chest centered over a dull ache. A familiar enough feeling that their first bleary thought is gratitude it doesn't have the density of a weapon. They bring their hand to it, encounter the soft, blocky, unmistakable shape of it.

A manuscript, thick in pages. The smell of newly printed paper hits them a moment later and in the dark of the dorm, they bury their face against it and breathe in deep. A newly printed book was an artifact nowhere to be found in this world; the smell wasn't home but it close enough to hurt, an ache far sharper than the dull throbbing the book's appearance had left in their chest. Would someone from home have noticed their belongings disappearing, one by one? Someone would be looking for them; Romanova's investigator's, their own siblings. There could be a message coded in the pages.

They're out of bed like a shot, not even bothering with pants or even socks under their overlarge t-shirt, heedless of the frigid floor. They leave their room as quickly as quiet will allow, and head to the kitchen at a trot. There's no real privacy except the earliness of the hour, and they know, if this book is what they think it is, they should burn it now. They know with equal clarity that they couldn't bear to.

It wouldn't be long before people started getting up. Sniper hits the lights and throws themself into a stool, curling themself over the book as they flip through it's pages. It was as they thought: A book Sniper had held in their hands only briefly before they'd been stolen from their world. Too Like the Lightning by Mycroft Canner. The first book of the history of the end of their world.]

II. Dorm General
[Apparently all the back-breaking labor isn't enough to substitute a daily work-out routine. Sniper's always up early so they can use the common room for what exercise one can do indoors, mostly an intense stretching routine. The look on their face is abstracted as they move through it, but quick to turn to an easy smile when they notice someone enter.]

Morning.

III. Work
[Sniper is all over the work, with an energy one might call manic for how much they seem to be doing. They can admit to themself that they need the distraction. For shoveling snow, they have stamina of a workhorse despite their size, and they spend a lot of time on the high railways.

They'll also tag along on deliveries, driving or riding shotgun. ]

diana prince | dceu

[monomachy]

i. i'm like a scarf trick [arrival / watanabe corporation]

[After slowly coming to in that van, Diana is too disoriented to consciously pay attention to much of what happens. But a part of her honed by millennia of training for times like this kicks in, and begins to catalog the bare minimum of what's happening: she's being moved; restrained; possibly poisoned; there are other people around her; it's cold; there's snow on the ground; they're letting her go. All of this is filed away in the lockbox of her memory to be processed later.

Right now, one thing matters to the most primal part of her brain: survival. But not sensing any imminent threat of death, that subconscious part of her opts to stay quiet. If she waits, an opening will come, and she'll unleash herself then. But instead, Diana goes stumbling through the snow and into the indicated building. She should have made a break for it; but they tell her to go inside, to stay there, and she does.

Her surroundings come into focus slower than they should. A building, modern, comfortable. Warm. Not a prison. A place to... wait. She doesn't know what they're waiting for, though. Her gaze flicks across the faces of everyone around her, searching for anything off. Nothing presents itself. They're all equally disoriented and bundled. They are all--not prisoners. No, they've been brought here for some other reason. But the fog in her mind has yet to lift, and she can't imagine what it might be.

Once she's certain that nobody in this lobby is going to die or inadvertently hurt themselves, Diana finds a chair, and the between the poison that should not have slowed her and the exhaustion she should not feel, the Amazon falls asleep. The part of her that focuses relentlessly on survival knows she needs to rest, to recover from whatever has happened--but she's still hyperaware of her surroundings, only barely falling to unconsciousness. So the moment someone approaches her or the door opens, she'll be awake and on her feet, alert as she can be with the way her head still swims.]

Where am I?

[The words come out thick, her mouth is dry. Something is wrong, so wrong with her body; a heavy sort of fatigue has settled down into her very bones, and she shakes her head once as if that will rid her of it. Her gaze slides across the faces, a few of them new from the time she sat down (has it been minutes or hours? She can't tell, and though it unnerves her, she keeps her face a sharp mask). Eventually, her gaze returns to the person in front of her, narrowing in. Her limbs are heavy, her mind still fuzzy, but her body is taut as a bowstring, ready to act.]

ii. it's all up the sleeve [PRESERVE]

[The situation is not at all to her liking. She's been altered, brought to the future, and has nothing to her name. Actually, right now, she apparently won't even have a name until her new ID is set up. While it isn't the first time Diana has had to start her life over, it's always been a choice. She has never run, never been taken--she has always made the decision to move from one disguise to the next when the time had been right.

And the timing of this could not have been any worse.

The League is in its budding stages, and now she isn't there to help Bruce and Clark gather the others. A part of her heart aches with the thought that they'll think she's simply disappeared, abandoned them, especially after going to such lengths to convince them she wouldn't do exactly that the moment she felt compromised. But her face had been all over the news, and she knew that any chance of escaping the moniker the media had given her was distant ("Wonder Woman;" not her first choice, but better than some alternatives Barry had pitched). She can only hope that they'll continue without her, that they won't feel her loss as heavily as she feels theirs right now. Because after fighting by their sides, for the first time in a century, Diana hadn't wanted to be alone. And now she is.

After a quick round of the dormitory (it's been so long since she's had communal quarters, she isn't sure how she feels about it yet), Diana heads to the first bedroom she finds with an unclaimed bunk and falls asleep after shedding layer after layer of coats and leggings. She'll be up with that same alertness as in the Watanabe building if she's approached, whether or not her body demands more rest.

Once she feels rested enough, she heads to the communal bathroom, spending a while looking in the mirror at her new hairdo after taking a quick shower. A slight frown tugs at her lips, but she seems intent on inspecting herself, as if she can pinpoint the reason for the decline in her powers. Because by now she's realized that yes, she's been changed--she can no longer feel that warm inner light, the part of her that belonged with the gods. She feels the way she did before that day a hundred years ago when she discovered her powers while sparring with Antiope.

She feels like an Amazon. Only an Amazon. And deep in her gut, it frightens her to not know how or why it's happened.

Her evenings are spent between the kitchen and the common area. In the latter, she has a habit of moving one of the large, overstuffed chairs into a corner that allows her to see the entire room with ease; she doesn't seem to have any trouble moving it, either. She doesn't talk much, instead taking the time to listen to those around her, picking up bits of information on New Tokyo and the place the others had come from--New Amsterdam. She sits curled in a chair, bundled in a large hand-me-down sweater and leggings, usually with a cup of bad coffee in her hands as she inspects those around her. If someone approaches her, she's ready with a smile, offering:]

It's almost cozy, despite the kidnapping looming over it all.

iii. i taste like magic [relief efforts]

[As soon as she hears that there are people without heat and food, Diana volunteers to aid them. Even if she's been brought here against her will, she isn't about to let innocent people suffer if she's in a position to help them.

She deigns to wear a jacket and thick boots, but she doesn't seem nearly as bundled as others who venture out into the storm. Themyscira is a tropical paradise, but she's been all over the world these past hundred years, and has taught herself how to handle extreme changes in temperature. Besides that, she's probably made of tougher stuff than a lot of the people here; as far as she can tell, most of them are human. And it's a little comforting to know that they'll still be around in five hundred or so years.

She'll start with delivering supplies, taking several of the stuffed backpacks without a second thought. They don't seem to slow her down as she begins trudging through the snow, apparently intent on going the whole way on foot.

Later, she'll prop a shovel on her shoulder and head out to the main roads. The physical labor is welcome, and it gives her time to think on the past few days and how the life she'd begun to build has been turned upside-down; well, more like ripped apart. Diana doesn't really notice that she's slinging snow left and right faster and with more ease than a woman of her size rightly should.

The missing persons cases are of special interest to her, and Diana volunteers to help search for them through the snow. The past days have been an exercise in learning where her limits lie again, and she's confident that she'll be able to withstand the storm long enough to find a few of them; but any offer of help wouldn't be dismissed.]

iv. waves that swallow quick and deep [wildcard]

[ooc; hit me up with anything! diana will be prowling around the dormitory and the city, so feel free to run into her basically anywhere. she'll be off her game a little, and will be looking for information anywhere she can get it. feel free to pm me or contact me on plurk at watchet with any specific requests, and if we've already planned something, let me know if you want me to make a prompt for you!]

jon snow | asoiaf

[998]

i. preserve, kitchens

[jon does well holed up against the snow and cold. he has snagged a cozy sweater and discovered a box of wine in the pantry. he is heating it up with some powdered spices and dried fruits and seeds of unknown provenance, and drizzles in some honey for good measure. come and get your bootleg hot spiced wine, friends.]

ii. preserve, slumber party (sansa, nill, heine, party crashers).

[jon has stripped down to his lightest layers for sleeping. he wishes ghost were here, but that's not unusual. despite the cold and the physical exertion of the day, he's not particularly tired. he sits on a bottom bunk, his elbows on his knees.]

Should we do something?

[he's not really fussed about what it is, but he doesn't trust that heine won't suggest something terrible.]

iii. shoveling snow on the train tracks.

[it's a hard job, but someone has to do it. jon's used to both manual labor and high places, and thus he volunteered himself. he made up for it by snatching up all the cool sleek black gear. this feels like a punishment alliser thorne might've inflicted on him in his early days at the wall, or something ned might've given him and robb to do on the castle walls, if they were causing too much trouble inside on a snowy day (with robb it would have been fun. he pushes that thought to the back of his mind).

jon's a good, quick, shoveler, and he's happy (maybe too much so) to help anybody struggling with their shoveling technique.]

lán wàngjī | ᴍᴏ ᴅᴀᴏ ᴢᴜ sʜɪ

[wangxian]

> WANTANABE CORPORATE BUILDING (NEW ARRIVALS)

i. wèn líng (inquiry).

[ in the cloud recesses, there had been much snow.

in the winters, when the mountain became impassable, lán wàngjī had known the endless treks that would be made regardless. no matter how high the powder was cast, he and those who would come with him would help cut paths. his disciples, tagging after him, would listen to his instruction to focus first upon what was of importance. he would drape them in thick robes, recall them as they tired beyond the depth of their endurance. he would think of when he too was young, sixteen, the soles of his thick boots coated with white that embodied his sect. he would think of he would smooth his hair and his forehead ribbon, his winter garbs left folded neatly by the door as he returned back in.

here, there are no such comforts to be pulled from him. there are no such comforts to be taken in as he traces his way in, his eyes touching upon each face that comes before and after him. each time, his heart stutters against his chest. each time, his expression does not shift from the absence to something somehow warm. even inside, as he removes his outer layers and his boots and leaves them impossibly neat and clear of snow beyond the foyer, he does not seek out what others do. instead, after a time, he might ask another, the light color of his eyes cutting bright and determined against the artificial lights: ]

Who should be spoken to?

[ each word comes level and even. it is not unfriendly, perhaps, but there is something in his gaze that presses against the skin like the flat edge of a blade, insistent and urgent. ]

ii. ”who are you?”

[ but, like the rest, he is new here.

like the rest, he has no proper point of reference. however, unlike many who are crammed with the corporate building, he commits to no chatter and commits to no states of panic. at least, as much as one can see. instead, he stands neatly toward the back or perhaps at times sits with posture so stiff and perfect that it would be doubtful that any such perceptions of expected grogginess or weighty limbs was held within his frame. though he is assuredly feeling it as everyone is, there is a distinctive stubbornness against showing it. perhaps, were he to convey it clearly, it would be that weakness, no matter the circumstance, is not tolerable for him.

and yet, the longer one looks at the man, tall and somehow patient, the longer one might come to notice that he occasionally tugs at the edge of his hat as if he is trying to replicate the feeling of something that should be there and no longer isn't. even when he sheds his coat (and mind it quicker than the rest), that is what remains. one might also notice that his bright eyes are at once guarded and discomfited as he keeps alert and attentive, listening to snips of conversation as they pass. despite the flat of his expression, there is no such unease that he radiates. instead he is an odd pocket of stillness, of quiet as he scans the faces of each in the room between bouts of others attempting the doors without any effect. but there is something unmistakable about it — that is, if one is perceptive. one can mark out of the shape of it, if one can tolerate the weight behind his gaze, the natural and neutral downward curve his lips.

he's not looking for you or even looking for an explanation (not yet), but he is looking for someone. and that, it seems, is more important than anything else to him. ]


> PRESERVE DORMS & RELIEF EFFORTS

iii. “where are you hidden?”

[ the dorms are unlike any other he has seen. much is.

in the days that they now spend here, he selects one that looks comfortable enough and quiet enough to rest in, but it is only the concepts and angles that give any familiarity to him. the lights are strange, the mechanics of how they cook food stranger. in this state, there is no way that he can wave his hand to dim what he desires or set something aflame. there is no appropriate tinder, no wicks for him to cut. it is only some similarity in cuisine, perhaps, here and there. and yet —

perhaps another has caught him studying them intently as they prepare food, his clear eyes at once studious and curious. or, perhaps, another has caught him utilizing mechanized doors after they have, his movements slower than one who would know with certainty how to operate it, but without hesitation nonetheless. or perhaps it is something else entirely, that relies upon electricity that operate in any true respect.

at least he is mannered and polite about it? barring, of course, the way his gaze seems heavy and his presence seems imposing if only for his silence and his height in combination. it isn't likely that he'll say much unless he needs the help (or maybe he won't say much in general), but any and all are free to call him out on it. he'd appreciate the assistance. ]

iv. “who has done this?”

[ the snows are deep, the drifts are deeper. where wind carries it, it piles in heaps both steep and artless against the flat faces of buildings, hugging each and every outline. but, the focus isn't granted time to settle hard against it. out in the cold, those who have taken up shovels need keep their eyes down and their lifts calculated. for all that it seems light and bright, there is a deceptive quality that pulls at the muscles of the shoulders and the muscles of the back. snow is heavy, after such long periods of time. it can only get heavier.

still, the silence of those working beside each other is occasionally interrupted. there are low conversations and low grumblings, but here, there is this: ]

Return inside, [ comes a voice to their right, low and clear and from the chest. it is possible that they might not have even known the man was there, given how quiet he's been. it is also possible that they might have glanced him, seemingly stoic despite his newness, his body having long fallen into a rhythm to cut through the task. they might have realized that this man, too, has never complained or taken one break. so, perhaps it is peculiar that he noticed that they seem tired. or that, perhaps, he has noticed that they seem colder than their peers. either way, the man's light eyes leave no room for argument. despite the neutrality of his expression, there is something about the way his dark brows draw together an incomprehensible fraction. or perhaps it is in the way his lashes lower, dip like shadows in a sleepless periphery. all that is for certain, however, is that this man seems not at all bothered by the weight of the snow or the weight of the cold, the way it slinks under cuffs of jackets and gnaws at the bone. there is the impression he would have kept going, the shovel's head planted in the thick of the powder, if he had not decided it pertinent to talk to them. ] I will clear the rest.

[ but, in truth, shouldn't this guy be trying to get himself settled or something instead of taking responsibility for the rest of this section? compared to the others, he has that sort of newness. it's in the way he watches all that he does not recognize, his eyes following any and all technological aspects on the way here and since. how unexpectedly diligent. ]

> MISC.

[ ooc: anything else you might want? hit me up over at famigerato or make use of his truth compulsion powers... or something. i'm open! ]

prompto | ffxv | ota

[mercurio]

A. CUDDLE PLAZA

[if you're looking for a place to bunk in at the dorms, you may walk into the room that one hideki maeda has decided to name his own kingdom. in it, only two people are allowed: prompto and cain. it's awkward as all hell, in between trying to keep the guy from bitching too much or have him figure out what's going on with all the displaced, but thankfully hideki is mostly drunk or high.]

[if you do walk into this room, you will find that prompto is very, very slowly trying to escape the clutches of his captor (read: hideki), who seems to really enjoy cuddling others when he sleeps. the blond's hands are at the edge of the bed (two mattresses pressed together, for the record), trying to pull himself away without disrupting hideki's sleep.]

[prompto just wants to use the bathroom or go get a drink of water. don't do him like this.]

Hey!

[he hiss-whispers, taking notice of you.]

B. MEANDERING ABOUT

[now that everyone is in new tokyo--along with a swathe of newcomers--prompto has made it his task to go about trying to meet people he isn't all too familiar with but whom he got to spend some time with in the dream world.]

[even with a nasty bruise on his face and cut lips, clear signs that he was in a fight, he is a friendly face, happy to join anyone in conversation about whatever or simply trying to explain how things work. he'll be lured by any type of citrus-y juice and snacks, though.]

Ow-

[also, he could be very prone to running into people and accidentally bumping into their backs.]

Sorry, I was watching a video in my mind while walkin'. Totally stupid...

C. SNOW EXPLORATION

[whether you want to take a spin on the hoverbikes or just simply go out, prompto is a willing companion for any and all of you. he can drive, and he has his camera with him; his expedition out into the inclement weather isn't so much about the relief efforts (he's taking a break), but rather at getting to go out with his camera and taking some pictures of new tokyo in its current state.]

[however, he can also do this on foot, and the fact that he's tying up his boots by the entrance is a prime opportunity for anyone who wants to join him.]

[or maybe you wanna race him in the snow.]

alex benedetto ( ota + one closed )

[windowsills]

SNOW AND BIKES

[ Alex always imagined snow to be fluffy and white, but the wind whips it around making it an absolute terror to move through. Even the puffy outerwear provided doesn’t feel like much of a relief. Bulky and strange, Alex can’t remember the last time she’s worn something like this. She comes from a city that’s very hot and relentless with its humidity. This weather is very different and only exciting for about a half hour. Then the seriousness starts to sink in which is when Alex immediately volunteers to bring food and other necessities out to smaller neighbourhoods. It’s the least she can do.

But it only takes a few blocks of walking until she’s desperately wishing that her powers had manifested in fire form instead of a destructive scream. The backpack of provisions is heavy and the snow hard to walk through without slipping or moving exaggeratedly. She’s really not use to such physical activity. She stops for a break when she notices it.

There’s a vehicle half hidden under a minor snow drift. Somewhere in the back of her mind the words hoverbike hang. It could definitely hover over the snow. She initially refused one because of her nervousness of getting on something that flies but...

She’s looking at it, obviously considering, maybe just maybe… ]

Does… anyone know how to drive one of these?

[ If there’s a reason to try something that scares you, it should be in the name of a rescue mission. ]

BIG SCREEN, BIG MOOD

[ At the PRESERVE dorms Alex can be found nestled in a beanbag chair in the viewing room. She’s thrown out her implant signal to the blank wall and engrossed in whatever she’s watching. Which turns out to be various movies about monsters if anyone bothers syncing up. The creatures are long, large, ghastly and strange, some reimagining of what a monster look like compared to what was popular in her time.

Her eyebrows are creased in thought as she watches a scene in one of the movies; a space creature ripping apart the haul of a sea vessel, angered by the intrusion of men in their territory. ]

I don’t understand what space has to do with the sea.

[ This little activity was meant to be some sort of enlightening research project, maybe something would click about the attacks she experienced, but all she’s managed to do find terrible C grade flicks so far. ]

CLOSED TO PROMPTO

[ That was it then. Alex holds the small wad of material to her arm, surprised at how painless and quick the blood sample was. She doesn’t know what she’d been expecting, to feel the pull of blood out of her body maybe? It is a childish thought, but she’s never received medical care to this degree, only ever seeing it happen to other people.

Alex smiles at Prompto and looks at his own not-quite-a-cotton-ball. ]

How are you feeling? It wasn’t so bad, was it?

caroline forbes, the vampire diaries.

[gasping]

01. relief efforts

[ caroline likes to be useful. in the wake of the dreams and the unsettling loss of control that waking up to their memory brings, it's a relief to have something physically demanding to focus on. she ferries new arrivals back and forth between the watanbe lobby and the safehouse, carefully guiding them around steep inclines and unwieldy drops; she hauls boxes and bags and bushels of supplies this way and that, loading side-cars and stuffing backpacks for those taking the goods to those still huddling for warmth throughout the city. they're good jobs, practical ones — and familiar, too. they remind her of prepping for homecoming carnivals or running cheerleading camps.

but it's later in the day, when caroline's washing the dirt and grime off her hands in the communal kitchen area, when she overhears two preserve members discussing the unsettlingly long list of missing persons in the city. it's more urgent than supplies, and with all the new arrivals seemingly accounted for, caroline knows it's where she needs to be. if someone's hurt or lost or afraid all on their own, they need someone who can withstand the elements to get to them and help them get to safety. ]

We should go.

[ it's not so much a request as a simple fact. whether she knows you well or not, it's clear that caroline thinks this is an important thing — far more important than whatever it is you're doing. do you really want to argue with her on this? ]

02. snow adventures

[ all work and no play makes caroline forbes a particularly cranky girl, and while her various busy tasks have kept her mind occupied and distracted from a whirlwind of negativity, she's still human. or... something like it. it's a figure of speech, alright, don't judge her.

with the blizzard's high winds ceasing their assault, new tokyo's left with fresh snowfall, a pretty if not unsettling contrast to the steel structures of the city. it's not exactly reassuring, considering how much work it will obviously take to clear the stuff and let the city get back to normal, but she's choosing to look on the bright side. fresh snow, ceased winds, and a little bit of downtime means only one extremely important thing: going out in the snow.

find her bundled up in a coat exactly the wrong color for getting lost in snowdrifts, trying her ungloved hands at anything from attempting to pack a snowball to making an entire line of progressively more precise snow angels. please don't step on them! ]

##. wildcard

[ choose your own adventure. drop me a line at semicolons / quake#2740 or via pm if you have questions/concerns! ]

leo fitz | mcu

[retravel]

[ setting up closed starters, but i'm keen to thread with anyone and everyone. hmu via pm or @ locution for something special! ]

wei "xuanyu mo" wuxian | OTA!

[laozu]

RELIEF & SUPPLIES WITH A SMILE!~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[ heedless of Nico's warnings about the dangers of delving too deep into New Tokyo ( or perhaps, he's all-too-mindful of the danger and simply taking it into account ), Wei Wuxian -- known to most by his now-fairly-popular handle "Xuanyu Mo" -- is hell-bent on pushing himself to his current physical limits ( which, granted, are noticeably higher than the average human being-- ) in order to deliver as many resources to as many people who are in need. ]

a. Ah, [ it's one of his fellow Displaced, coming upon him in quite the pickle; with his hood pushed back, he appears to practically swim in his jacket, it sits lumpy and heavy on his already slender frame, the ragged collar continuously rising to settle under his chin, no matter how many times he pushes it down. he pushes it down once again, and gestures to the hoverbike that he's currently straddling. the one that he's attempting to turn on by pressing literally every available button, poking his fingers into every stray opening and generally hopping up and down upon it as though it were a stubborn donkey. ]

Do you know how to use this? It's far more stubborn than my Lil' Apple back home, and he was the worst ass ever.

[ he bounces again, before shimmying towards the back of the bike, patting the small space in front of him invitingly: ] I want to take some of the children on a little ride, to lift their spirits. And don't say it's a waste of resources! Making people happy in difficult times is just as important as bringing them supplies, and I'm doing both!

b. [ the pvc pipe he had been using to wheedle a stilted, difficult-to-follow musical tune is long gone. instead, there is an elegant length of dark bamboo between his fingers, and the sight of it seems to transfix the small gathering of people that he's collected between buildings, a stone-and-packed snow fire lighting the enclosed space. it's oddly warm there, the result of traditional knowledge being utilized in a modern world - if the buildings cannot be kept warm, why not bring the people to where it can be kept warm instead?

he plays music for them, oftentimes staying throughout the night with the people of New Tokyo rather than returning to the dorms. x'hrun and ardyn, he thinks, might need the "privacy" -- honestly, one of them is going to clobber him for being so sly and mocking one of these nights. ]

It's called Chenqing, [ he says to the young woman who touches the end of his flute, merrily he gives it a spin, the red tassels flowing elegantly, lit by the fire. his eyes fix, over the fire and towards the end of the alley - spotting, perhaps, another of his fellow Displaced. ]

Did you come to keep an eye on me? Why don't you come learn to make some fire pits, we might be able to take this knowledge deeper still.

c. [ and deeper still, he tries to go. feisty and snappish as he waits at the edge of the scaffolding that leads even deeper into New Tokyo, to the depths they were warned against delving into. ]

I understand what she said, [ he wants the other to know that; he heard Nico, he's just choosing not to care about the warning. ] If you want to turn back, it's okay. I'm very, very good at what I do - practically a master! But, he could be lost down there.

[ the missing person he has designs on finding; an older gentleman who had vanished between his family's home and the upper levels. Wei Wuxian points down, down further into the depths of New Tokyo, where the cold is so dense it reminds him of the cold pools at Gusu. ]

I just have a feeling he got lost somewhere in between, is all. It shouldn't be hard and I want to find him, are you with me?

d. [ he doesn't stop going into the depths of the city after that, each time he comes out colder and smadder (sad-madder), losing scraps of his clothes and passing it off as though he's just a forgetful, silly sort. in the dorms, he can be found in one of the communal rooms, squinting at a wall that is likely playing some movie he doesn't fully understand ( who is van damme and why are his splits so COOL? ), blowing into his palms to warm himself up after another long, cold day and generally acting out the martial arts in the movie --

wow, he's actually, uh. he's actually really good at them too. fluid, graceful, definitely trained in it. ]

WILDCARD IDEAS

[ hit him up all over new tokyo; Wei Wuxian can be found heavily involved in relief efforts, though he's not at all organized and will need help in that department. what he lacks in organization he makes up for in sheer strength, endurance and a willfulness that will lead him to literally stay with the people of New Tokyo - his Cooltalk and other social media is inevitably full of their faces, their stories and their emotions.

catch him in a noodle bar, practicing a simple dance routine that a few of the small children of New Tokyo end up imitating ( ah, he's showing them how to stay warm and be healthy! ). or, hit me up on forzare, pp me or slap a comment here and let's collab on an idea! ]

jyn erso ✧ open

[realists]

ｐｒｅｓｅｒｖｅ ｄｏｒｍｓ ✧

[ jyn erso is not a fan of cold. she is especially not a fan of the snow. every time her feet crunch over the hard snow it is like nails across a chalkboard, but she still goes out more often than not because she hates being cooped up and she's stubborn enough to think that spitefully going out to work means she is somehow going to win.

against snow.

no one ever said she was particularly mature.

jyn also ventures out into the snow to go to the store and she finds herself staring at shelves upon shelves of food. she hasn't been to a grocery or market proper since she was a toddler and her eyes are as wide as when she smelled the sweet red cookies frying at jedha's market. there are so many options. too many options.

softly: ] What the fuck.

[ when she is inside, she can be found wrapped up like a blanket burrito with only her pale (and bruised, thanks reyes) face visible. food seems to be settled somewhere in the blanket because every so often her hand will appear from the blankets and she chomps down on something before her hand retreats. she can be found in the view room, squashed into a bean bag, but she prefers the other common areas, tucked into a sturdy chair, reading or just staring off into space. ]

ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒｉｎｇ ｓｕｐｐｌｉｅｓ ✧

[ zoom zoom zoom, not having an inclination towards piloting doesn't mean she doesn't want to go fast and the hover bikes are fun, even if her eyes sting with tears from the wind howling past her sunglasses. her backpack is stuffed with blankets as she heads out deep into the poor parts of the city, ignoring entirely the people closer to town and focusing on people who need the most help. water and blankets and food are coming for them, but that doesn't mean jyn can't have a little fun on the way.

or a little fun when she is there. the taciturn, perpetually frowny faced woman is startlingly good with children, offering tiny snacks and making them beautiful blanket dresses and cloaks and robes. it's all very fashionable. ]

ｓｈｏｖｅｌｉｎｇ ｓｎｏｗ ✧

[ jyn is all muscle, unexpectedly sturdy for someone who looks so small, especially bundled up, so maybe it is surprising how long jyn can go shoveling before she takes a break. her cheeks and nose are pink and chapped, her fingers and toes are stinging but at least that means there is still blood flow. shoveling is, well, it's not easy but it is uncomplicated and yet still strenuous to enough to take the majority of her focus so she doesn't have to think.

maybe she's overheard swearing at the snow -- the hutts have hilariously creative curses -- or maybe she has to be prodded with a shovel to get her attention. ]

Yeah?

ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ ✧

( do yo thang or hit me up @ baleinette#3692 if you want to plot )

max guevara | dark angel | ota

[revvedup]

001: WATANABE/PRESERVE DORMS

[ max hasn't been here long enough to be an expert in how to explain everything, but she does have some experience in dealing with people who have been misplaced and are pissed off about it, having been in that position a few times herself, both coming off of being drugged and experimented on and not. she doesn't seek out the displaced, focused more on what she needs to do for the mission she'd initially volunteered for, but if any approach her looking for help, whether it's answers on what's going on or just someone to talk to about how weird and screwed up this all is, she'll turn her attention to them.

she'll be happy for a distraction in any form, even if she looks busy. ]

002: RELIEF EFFORTS/HOVER BIKES

[ most of max's efforts are spent delivering supplies, at least during the first few days. it's smarter for her to start with something simple until she's more familiar with the lay of the land, and she figures she can always help with finding missing people or attempting to restore the power later on, if the people involving themselves in that even need her help.

hover bikes are a little different than her motorcycle and the wintery climate of new tokyo is much different than seattle's ever persistent rain, but it only takes a little trial and error for her to master riding on it. (well, maybe 'master' is too strong a term, but she is maneuvering on it with a fair amount of ease, even over the heavy snow.) partners in delivery might notice that she takes a longer route back or goes a little faster than necessary at times, and when she's back at the building she spends the time she should probably be sleeping working on the ones that have broken down.

(if she's not supposed to be doing that, she should probably be told so.) ]

003: WILDCARD

[ if what i've got here doesn't work for you, i'm open to pretty much any other scenario you've got in mind! i can be found at vdova or you can pm max's account if you have any questions. ]

eugenides / queen's thief / ota

[kleptocratic]

dormitories—

Α.

[ There are four beds to a room and only one of them is obviously occupied. Eugenides is reclined in the sort of posture that might serve for lazily eating grapes in better times. ]

They're all taken.

[ They aren't, though. He's lying. But if someone manages to convince him otherwise, or simply decides to occupy a clearly empty bed, as spaces begin to fill up, they might discover, during the night, why he tried to keep the room to himself. He suffers from night terrors, awful dreams the gods send to keep him humble, and he wakes up obviously sobbing.

In the morning, he's gone. ]

Β.

[ Eugenides can't cook, or even cut up food, but he can hang around the kitchen discreetly taking bits of food others have left unattended. If he sees someone he knows or a stranger he takes for the sharing type he'll just help himself to whatever is on their plate.

On one occasion though, he appears with an armful of exotic ingredients, including something nut-shaped that is for some reason bright green. ]

Who knows how to make pancakes?

relief efforts—

Γ.

[ Eugenides doesn't know how to drive or particularly want to shovel snow. He's interested in electricity but knows his knowledge is lacking and that people need help more than his distractions.

So, he approaches someone either loading up a hoverbike or looking to start riding it, his arms close to overflowing with blankets, like a cup with too much milk. Not the blankets that PRESERVE has provided— nice new blankets all the same. ]

Here. We should take these to someone who needs them.

[ He stole them, but that won't be a problem, right? ]

wildcard—

[ Feel free to throw me something or request custom starters. I'm available for contact via PM and lightfellows! ]

heine rammsteiner | dogs b&c

[whitehair]

[ closed starters; i am always open to do anything and everything, so feel free to hit me up and we can come up with something together!!!! get me here or at sdat :)b ]