ARRIVAL LOG 010

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Evening of October 21 and 22
WHAT: The tenth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion, loss of autonomy, sexual themes and alcohol usage. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #010

Awareness comes to you in blurred snatches, cloudy fragments of sound and light, color, sensation. Hazy and difficult to grasp on to, but slowly aligning into focus. A series of regular, rhythmic beeps. A medicinal, astringent smell. The sensation of movement, a low hum and accompanying vibration under you. Your eyes are heavy, hard to keep open, but in the glimpses between slow, dark blinks you see four people in black body armor seated opposite you, as well as a man in dark gray scrubs.

You realize there are others next to you. All of you in white scrubs, hair recently cut but at various stages of growth, restrained by straps across your chests, arms, feet, holding you to the bench under you. To your left, an armored interior door, two more people visible, the movement of streets passing through a windshield. You try to open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your tongue is coated in tar, and you manage nothing more than an empty parting of lips.

The vehicle stops. The guard opposite you stands and comes to unbuckle you from the bench, helping you to your feet. Your limbs feel wooden and heavy, slow to move. One guard opens the back of the vehicle, and false, colored light, illuminating the streets in the distance will first alert your senses of being somewhere else, combined with air that's only cooled with the setting of the sun. The nurse moves to stand at the back, checking each passenger over one by one just before they're helped out of the vehicle, quick and methodical. He doesn't climb out after you, moving to sit as the last passenger is unloaded.

The guards keep their heads down. Their actions are quick, firm, but not entirely unkind. Once all the passengers are out, they drop some masks on the ground in a tan-colored tote bag. "Pick a mask," they bark, and then turn to climb back into the vehicle and close the doors. The engine powers up again, and then the bus is gone.

You're left alone in an alley, with no idea of where you are or why you've been brought here.

Around the corner of the alley, there is the sound of various different carnival rides and men yelling for someone to step right up and try their luck on the various assortment of games that are available. Off in the distance, there's a large, hulking structure – perfectly vertical in nature, and people on it twist upward and then come slamming down mere moments later. It seems that you've just arrived as a part of some festivity, though it's probably hard to tell if you're an attraction or a coincidence of this all.

Either way – time to pick a mask. They're nothing special: they go over the head, but no one was ordered to put one on. They show various monsters – generic and otherwise – and it looks like they were purchased in bulk.

◉ 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.

> 10 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN: OPENING CEREMONY

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.

Here we go again. You know the drill by now. Our new batch has been thrown into the middle of a Halloween party. They should have masks on which doesn't make them much easier to find, but I trust you guys can figure this out. You know the signs to look for by now. So… Happy Halloween. 🎃

Having ten actual days dedicated to Halloween may seem like a bit much, but New Amsterdam takes the festivities seriously. Thanks to being a melting pot of two millenia's worth of cultures, they try to touch on every aspect of it. The launch party is a two-day event set in the cultural district. Thanks to the lack of ground traffic, the city easily rolls in what acts as a mini-carnival. The ground throughout the carnival is lit with candle-filled pumpkins, providing a warmth of inviting light as the nights grow cooler. While the carnival shuts down during the working day, it opens again in the evening, allowing working parents to bring their children before the hours come to a close. During this time, children run around with their friends in costumes to ask for candy or food from nearby businesses or carnival booths. Sometimes these children have to perform a task before they get what they've asked for – either through playing a game or answering a trivia question – but they're never turned away empty handed.

The first two days are largely billed as a time for people to come together and have a good time, but Halloween is also known for offering opportunities to local artists to get their work recognized. Whether digital or otherwise, artists are asked to commit to a theme and produce art on the first day of the event that's viewed throughout the next nine days. Part of the tradition is the crunch of trying to produce a work of art with limited notice and time. If they aren't done before the first two days are over, they won't be able to get free advertisement for their work. When the event is over, all of the art will go up for auction, and the artists will receive 75% of whatever is offered for their work. This year's theme is "Remembrance and Renewal" – and most themes from past years are just as open for interpretation.

As it gets deeper into the evening and children have returned home, the festivities turn toward being more adult. While barred from selling alcohol until 9 PM, the various carnival booths change their tune after that point, offering a wide array of alcohol – including their own takes on moonshine. The first night even features a competition over who's brought the best, and everyone's invited to try a sample and put in a vote – for free. A rather savvy individual would likely be able to find themselves well in their cups just off of these samples, as the moonshine contest is the way for the adults to get a treat of their own. For these evening festivities, everyone is allowed to wear a more risque costume, and sex workers come over from the neighboring Red Light District in order to advertise some of their more unique services for the evenings ahead. Every brothel will have a unique theme of its own to mark how special the event is, and their services will match.

Otherwise, the first two days of Halloween are known for allowing kids to have fun and for adults to be anonymous for a little while. Anyone who holds down a day job will still be expected to turn into work, but there's a tacit understanding that most people will be under the weather during this time.

◉ The carnival will have a wide array of rides that are set up rather quickly. There's a ferris wheel with seats that will rotate around a large machine like an atom, but with many different "branches" to allow a great deal of people to go on at once. Everyone gets on at the same time, and the seats "float." Each person can pay for how long their ride is in increments, and extend that time if they so choose. For the after dark people, there is a definite badge of honor in having a good time in a ferris wheel without getting caught with your pants down. Other rides include the Wicked Force – which rapidly takes people up 500 ft into the air and then drops them – as well as carousels that allow someone to customize their mount for an additional amount of money. Want a lewd mount? That's fine … after the kids have gone home to play, and some people like to show off whatever they thought up on Cooltalk.

◉ As always, there are a large number of food options available thanks to the local food trucks coming out to sell their food. Taco trucks are the most popular around this time, and that's most of what will be offered. Many trucks will have some homemade candy that they offer for free with each meal – with the option to get more.

◉ Throughout the city, there will be controlled bonfire pits that are lit every night at 8 PM, though they won't be present in the less cared for parts of New Amsterdam. Ahead of the event starting, there will be a website to let people know where these pits are going up so they can set up meeting places with their friends – or even reserve a pit for a private group. Reservations around the more popular areas cost more than ones that are nearing the "disreputable" sections – though "disreputable" is shorthand for rundown buildings in need of repair more than any crime.

◉ There are, of course, costume contests! While many local bars – dive and otherwise – will have smaller affairs, there is a large contest held on these first two nights. Because of the wide array of people and costumes available, someone has to enter their costume according to a certain theme. Some of the themes are: vampires, ghosts, zombies, pop culture (animation), pop culture (action movies), pop culture (celebrities), political figures, historical figures – and more! In the five days that follow, people will be able to go online and vote for their favorite costume. Whoever accumulates the most votes gets a meal of their choice at a number of participating restaurants – HAPPYHAPPYJOYJOY, SOL, Monde Pizza, Sweetwaffel and more – as well as 200 credits added to their funds.

◉ There will be dealers around the carnival trying to get someone to buy something to "heighten" their experience. While the "monster drug" is out in the city, it won't be available here. Halloween is thought of as a neutral ground for the city, and even the gangs recognize that. Most drugs will be hallucinatory in nature, providing effects similar to shrooms. Of course, any drugs are still illegal, and people will want to be careful not to get caught – or buy from the wrong person.

◉ Anyone who chooses to take part in the more illicit and sexual activities will be advised to go home to finish out their nights. Being handsy is fine, but getting caught on the ferris wheel? Well, the goal is to not get caught. Public acts are still illegal, though most people just spend a night in jail thinking about what they did. It's treated as more embarrassing than anything, but sometimes people let things get away from them. Many of the brothels will offer rooms to couples for the evening, complete with toys and supplies to practice safe sex. Even if they aren't spending their night with a sex worker, the themed goods are still there to enjoy.

> 10 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN: THE NEXT EIGHT DAYS

After the rowdier events pass, Halloween splits into two main categories: corporate popups and remembrance. Halloween parties continue to be thrown at restaurants and bars, allowing people to enjoy a more low key version of what was previously available. Many of the bars have karaoke contests and themed parties, and many retail stores maintain a Halloween section until November first. If anyone's been invited to a party last minute – or they need a series of costumes to be extra about the whole occasion – they can hit these stores when needed.

◉ Pulsar's hover car-focused subsidiary, Bakker, advertises their 2512 line of cars by having hover hay rides around the city. Their trucks can hold up to six. Anyone hoping to go on a hover truck hay ride around the city to take in the sights and bonfires in the evening can call one on New Amsterdam's special Halloween app! These rides don't only show the city: they give a glimpse at the large amount of forestation just over the wall, allowing people to see that the Earth is gradually improving.

◉ There are, of course, haunted houses set up around the city! Haunted houses come in two varieties: virtual reality and 4D. Vyonation's gaming subsidiary, Vizija, sets up the virtual reality popups around the city. Due to the high tech nature of these setups, people do have to be on site to enjoy them. They interface with someone's neural implant, and depending on the experience, they can involve puzzles, escape rooms, murder mysteries, or even dissection tables. The 4D houses are the result of a joint partnership between Poe and Polarized – which are subsidiaries of Giles Bell and Pulsar, respectively.

4D haunted houses involve a great deal of props, realistic sights and smells, as well as the potential for certain drugs that can help provide a certain physical or emotional response. Whereas Vizija's simulation comes with the reassurance that nothing is real, Poe and Polarized team up to scare someone – and try to ensure it's as real as possible. Nothing offered at either is illegal, including the drug – though people with a history of heart issues won't be allowed to use the drug at all.

These experiences are made unique for everyone going in: people are allowed to opt out of anything that might make them uncomfortable, or even add in something along the way. If someone is feeling too much anxiety thanks to the drugs, they'll find a counter-drug added to their system to negate the artificial effects rather quickly.

◉ Remember that art contest? Anyone who finished a work will find their art somewhere in the city – and that includes anyone among the Displaced. If anyone is looking for artwork that's similar to what's been featured on the shrines, there will be a few, only they will seem more inviting. Whereas they celebrated people before, they now involve hands outstretched, welcoming someone down a blue-lit path. The same imagery – triangles and overlapping circles – will still be present, especially on the hands as tattoos.

◉ Five days before the 31st, there is a tradition of everyone donating a knife from their house to make it so that "spirits" can return safely. While no one in New Amsterdam genuinely believes that they might be visited by a spirit, the odd occasions around the city recently have lent some credence to this superstition. There will be knife disposal boxes all around the city – and anyone who doesn't give up a knife, butter or otherwise, will be seen as a bit of a spoilsport.

◉ On October 29th, there will be a procession from one end of the city to the other that starts just as the sun goes down and finishes when everyone has reached the other side. As you might imagine, this is a very, very long walk, and many people slip in and out according to what they can individually manage. People walk with candles along the way, and there will be booths selling new or replacement candles for a low price. Since the procession goes along the path of a lot of bonfires, it won't ever be difficult to get them lit. The purpose of this? Everyone uniting in remembrance: of a world that's healing, to celebrate the lives lost to usher in a peaceful era, to thank everyone on the colonies for offering a humanity a new home, and any personal losses that people might have faced. Even though there are still billions of people alive, there is the sense that everyone knows that they remain on Earth on borrowed time.

◉ For the last two days, people light candles and put them in their windows, and they also leave food outside of their windows and in the front of their apartments so that "spirits" can return safely. There's an implicit understanding that most of this food will be taken by people who aren't doing as well, and much of it is nonperishable. Anyone who's down on their luck will see candles in the window and will know that they will likely find food there. Many people stock up for this occasion so that they can replace any food. Unsurprisingly, most high-end apartments with well-off people don't honor this tradition, but people in mid-to-low end apartments will almost always have something to spare in the spirit of charity.

> SAFEHOUSE

Access to the safehouse is a hatch hidden behind stacks of empty storage shelves in the back of an abandoned supermarket in an outer district of the city. The immediate area is similarly abandoned, empty stores, flanked by several blocks of dive bars and clubs which cater to more niche tastes. A place where people can come and go unseen, or, if seen, not spoken of. A dark haired woman called Gaby is ready to greet the new arrivals and get them settled in, brusque and no-nonsense – she'll be open for in depth questions later, but will advise everyone to ask the people who brought them in for the beginning bits of information.

◉ The safe house is a large open space, filled with rows of basic cots set up to sleep a large amount of people. Basic, but outfitted with everything necessary for daily life. A few doors lead to back rooms for storage, medical care and a large communal bathroom, and past the long rows of cots there is a communal kitchen, fully stocked, and an eating area. Privacy is at a minimum.

◉ New characters will be asked to pick their beds, and provided with a change of (second-hand, mismatched and somewhat threadbare) clothes and basic toiletries.

◉ Any belongings from previous safehouse occupants have been packed up – and that includes any current Displaced who just got back from a trip. If someone left something out while they were in New Tokyo, Gaby will tell them where these objects can be found. For her part, she's just trying to get everything set up for the upcoming move.

◉ Gaby will make it clear to all new arrivals that if they have any requests or queries, they should contact her or El.

◉ Once everyone that El spotted has arrived back, they'll be informed that the safehouse will be a temporary location. By the end of the month, everyone will be moving to a new location about fifteen blocks away.

◉ The drugs making new characters compliant will remain in their systems for a few hours after their arrival at the safehouse before finally beginning to fade. They will be gone entirely after a night's rest. In the meantime, they may want to be careful of what others say to them.

◉ New characters will be given rudimentary access to the network on arrival in the safehouse, but will not have their ID set up yet. They will be able to make posts and replies, but their messages will be anonymous and they do not have inboxes yet.

◉ New characters will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until OCTOBER 25 (MAY 19). These 4 days are for them to adjust, learn about the world they've arrived in from their fellows, and for El to speak with them and work on setting up their IDs.

> 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, nor be allowed out of the safehouse until OCTOBER 25 (MAY 19). At that point it's expected they'll have gotten a good idea of their new situation from their fellow characters, and will have discussed their background and job potentials with El in order for their false IDs to be set up.

If you have an artist character, please feel free to comment below under our QUESTIONS header to submit a description for a work of art! As long as they submitted something, you can feel free to assume they made some credits off of the whole experience!

Since there is a part of this log that involves explicit sexual activity, please remember content warnings. If your character engages in a sexual act, slap a warning on that! None of the drugs available at the event will involve aphrodisiacs or anything that will remove consent. Some of the brothels may involve play with that, but everyone entering those arrangements would need to consent from the start. We're well aware of the sensitive nature of having a Red Light District-adjacent event while characters are under the influence of compulsory drugs, so no characters will be forced or asked into any acts against their will. There will be no exceptions to this. In addition, any newcomers won't be able to skip off into a brothel because they're new, won't be able to confirm their ages, and they won't have any other identifying information. Otherwise, please be respectful and check everyone's permissions.

As a blanket reminder, all arrival logs are designed as mingle logs for the entire game.

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 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 May 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 June 1 at 12 AM UTC and close on June 8 at 12 AM UTC. If you do not reply to AC, you will be considered idled and dropped from the game. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[gradual]

( ugh. as if he wants a bloody id is what he wants to say, but he resists slamming his fists on the table. temper, temper. he'll just have to control that for now. don't want to go around scaring anyone just yet. especially not when he's about to get pancakes. he is feeling quite famished. )

New Orleans. But I've always been a bit of a traveler... Never quite stayed put anywhere. ( he picks up a random cup from the table, turning it around in his hands as he considers what he'd like to tell her. ) I was born in a little one-horse town called Mystic Falls... ( he glances up to look at her then, curious to see her reaction. )

[gradual]

( he's aware that he's lost a good chunk of his own memory; having no idea what happened between the time he was in new orleans and... that time he got off of that bus. ) Perhaps you made an attempt to escape, failed miserably, had your memory wiped and now you're here again. Rinse, recycle, repeat. ( he makes a face at the thought of that. that's really no fun. and neither is being in this "safehouse". )

I don't suppose you have any idea what we're here for. Honestly though? I don't really care at this point. And I see you've taken the right approach to dealing with matters. ( he points to the bottle of vodka in her hands. ) Shall we have a few drinks together?

[resleeves]

Nope.

[ he's not sure at all which it why he's gonna do it. he's never really played it safe before because he's always had that safety net to fall back on in that he could just be resleeved. that's not going to happen here but this place has its own quirks.

he slants a glance over and raises an eyebrow. ]

You concerned about me, old man?

[ as if he can talk. ]

[resleeves]

[ what a cruel woman you were, dutch. cruel, cruel, cruel. he doesn't stare (much) but he definitely catches that little movement and has to wonder if she's doing it on purpose because he's pretty sure she is.

and it's not like he can do it back because can you imagine someone like him trying that nice little lip licking trick? just no. ]

I never promise too much.

[ that's because he rarely made promises. he snags the bottle after her and tips it back, letting it slide down his throat and warm him up from the inside. ]

But I deliver on anything I say I'm gonna do.

[gasping]

[ caroline forbes is many things, but a good poker player is not one of them. as the name of her own hometown spills out of this quasi-strangers mouth, a wave of deja vu spills over her. it hasn't been that long since she'd run into klaus in the midst of a halloween carnival, since she'd learned all about the vampires she'd come to meet who were much much older than herself.

was he one of them? if she squinted, he bore a faint resemblance to the man. nothing outright — not katherine and elena doppleganger levels, by any stretch — but similar. the same squared hairline, the same sharpness in their jaw. if she was a better artist, she might think more of it. as it is, caroline just wonders if there was something in the water in mystic falls. ]

I've never been to New Orleans. [ bad at duplicity, but she's trying to be better at subtlety. ] What's it like?

[gasping]

A couple times. Well, no, more than that, but for me it's only been... twice. I got dropped off, and then we went to New Tokyo for a blizzard thing and more people showed up, and now you guys.

[ but there were more before that, and so caroline holds up a hand, index finger twitching a bit as she tries to count in her head. she quickly counts up to six on her hands, mumbling the names of months as she goes. ]

I think... twelve times? It's basically every two weeks, apparently.

[kgbs]

Yes, that is how everyone is brought here. I do not know why or how but the story is all the same. You remember before but you wake up here, dumped out of a van and with no choice but to obey for at least a few hours.

[ and he hates that still. he'd had it used against him a bit when he'd gotten here but nothing too badly which is why he's trying to be careful now. ]

I am dressed as I normally am. [ yes, it was true that he was wearing something much better than scrubs but he doesn't think much of it. he likes clothes that fit and he likes well tailored things so...all right, maybe he is well dressed.

sue him, he has to play the role of a fashion consultant and this helps. ]

You need money to do that. [ and illya guesses you don't have any of that right now. ] There should be some secondhand items at the safehouse.

[ don't faint, kol. ]

[sandu]

Like how you did? [ jiang cheng can't stop himself. it has always been this way - something about wei wuxian is a catalyst to his anger, his frustrations bubbling over with every word spoken and exchanged between them.

like right now, it's something completely involuntary that spills out like blood and guts from an open wound, visceral and raw and glistening, and for a second his expression crumples. for a second, they are thirteen, fifteen again. they are back in the boat again, they are back in the darkened forest with the scent of ashes and fire still upon them, except his hand is tight around wei wuxian's wrist instead of his throat.

let me go, he says, and even though the voice is different, the face is different, it is the same sort of tired resignation, the sort of obstinate stubbornness he's always recognised in the other, has always hated about the other. let me go, he says, like that day in the shadows of the burial mound, like the day by the river, an unmoored boat floating in the waters. forget about me. i don't need you. let me go..

jiang cheng should be used to this. as always, he has to be the one to watch wei wuxian leave. as always, he is the one remaining among the shadow cast by the ruins of the past. ]

Tell me, Wei Wuxian - [ a'xian, wei ying, the incorrigible half of the twin heroes, that person is no more. the pallid ashen hue of the other's face should warn him, but jiang cheng is beyond caring about that, and he simply tugs at the arm caught in his grasp, pulling it up higher as he steps closer. some nameless sort of dread gnaws at the edge of his words, some desperation grasping at straws like a drowning man.

tell me otherwise. tell me something different. tell me to do anything but. ]

- I guess you find it so fucking easy, am I right?

[ there is an ache there - almost a physical pain as if wei wuxian had managed to land a blow on him. a sense of disgust, of nausea that filters back through to him, and jiang cheng laughs, a hollow sound, a nails-on-chalkboard, a sword-against-rock sound that means everything and nothing. ]

[poppycock]

( of course she would. believe him. how could she not, when the emotions running through him are sharp and piercing; overwhelming like a wave of aches and longings and terrors. still: there's a pinpoint of relief when she answers, the certainty that he is known with honesty, if nothing else.

caroline's isn't 'nothing else.' he trusts her and it's the reason he holds onto her now, why he does not break away from their intimate and maddening embrace. he wants her to feel him. he wants to be felt. he trusts her to take all of him and with her hands comfort and understand him, but more than that: not harm him.

perhaps she will trust him too, if he is laid bare.

his chest aches like an open wound, a soft vulnerability in his eyes infused with the stone of his determination. his palm, flat and warm, soothes a line up her back; his other hand pulls her in by the cut of her waist. his voice is caught in his throat, his bowed to hers. ) Please tell me what's going on. ( he's afraid. he's lost. he does not hide this from her. he's heard plenty from others, discerned enough for himself, but he will believe her. )

:,)

[laozu]

[ from most people, words as knives were not enough to wound him; he was the resilient, bright-beaming child of rogue cultivators, a hound-savaged orphan of the streets who would have been poor and alone in life if not for jiang fengmian - poor, alone, but still able to be happy. it was simply who he was, at the core of himself. words said with the intention to hurt him often missed their mark, captured from the air by skilled hands or left flying into the distance due to graceful sidestep.

when jiang cheng, sworn brother and member of the family who had given him family and happiness that was not filled with the daily struggles if the laypeople, said things that were meant to hurt wei wuxian, he was always, always without defense against them. and he reacts in kind, less because jiang chengs words ( guess you find it so fucking easy ) are an insult to him, personally -- and more because they are, to wei wuxian, an insult to jiang cheng that he will never stand for.

the sudden, shaky burning of his ire is all the warning jiang cheng will get - chest brightly blue - as wei wuxian's head whips around from where he's been half-hanging, fighting against the sickness in his belly, and he cracks his forehead against jiang cheng's nose angrily. immediately after, he dry heaves again - nothing in him now. ]

Don't, you dare! Don't you dare think anything was easy! [ he's smaller now, inhumanly strong like the other two cultivators, but lacking the fluidity of his past life - mo xuanyu had not known a long life of training, not like him. no matter that, his free hand finds jiang cheng's hand and he begins to try and wrest it from himself - ]

None of it was easy! Nothing! Not a moment. I lost everything too, but I couldn't let you lose what little you had left. That you never saw means that I succeeded -- [ the word has weight; the old, dark yiling mania ] or what did you think I meant, when I said I would serve you all my life? None of it was easy. I did it because I would rather always see your your back from a distance, than your memorial every year.

[mercurio]

That can't be sanitary...

[is what he mumbles, giving kol a look of bitch, what because this is definitely one of the weirdest requests ever. people usually ask for pillows or alcohol or even pizza.]

Bu-but, I mean. [he frowns; kol doesn't look too well.] Okay? Uh, there should be knives in the kitchen.

[besides, the people who come here are very different. the request isn't so crazy as it could have been.]

You wanna sit down first?

[poppycock]

( it certainly occurs to klaus this man has reason to lie. perhaps even a propensity; it's quite rare his dinner invites him for a drink afterwards. typically, if his victims aren't compelled and sent on their way or unceremoniously slaughtered, they tend to run. on rarer occasions they may attempt to fight back.

john, as he'd like to be called, tried the latter and now he wants to chat.

he turns towards john, a smile on his face. ) Klaus. ( he has nothing to hide: or rather, he would assume, nothing to fear.

he gestures to the bar. ) Shall we?

[gradual]

( perhaps it's because of the circumstances; he'd just been unceremoniously dropped off in some alley post being drugged or whatever, he's had too much to drink already, and damon salvatore, well, he just doesn't particularly stand out, does he? so when the man sets his cup next to his and asks him a question, kol simply looks at the guy and gives him a friendly little smile. )

My next vote goes to the one who fills my cup to the rim. ( and sure enough he gets what he wishes for as his once empty cup gets filled up with more of that moonshine. ) Best night ever, I would say. ( he takes a sip of the liquor before offering the cup to damon, exchanging his for his. ) Now this isn't at all bad. A bit of a strange aftertaste though. I don't know what that is. Ginger, perhaps?

[sandu]

[ a bright, feral thing he had been, and bright he is even still, even now, that staring at him has sunspots dancing in front of jiang cheng's eyes. he had been like sunlight to rain, like breeze to fog, summer to his winter. one half of a whole he had been, long enough that he no longer remembers the time when wei wuxian had not been by his side, but he remembers every promise said between them, whispered under covers, under trees, under rain or shine. every promise made and broken.

the recognition of some foreign anger, not his own, comes too late - belatedly, he steps back, but it is not before the other's forehead makes solid contact with his nose. there is a crack, a sickening sort of crunch, and jiang cheng curses brokenly as he finally lets go. blood streams down hot and scalding, and his emotions run high with it as well, throbbing off beat to his heart. ]

What is the point of it? I never asked you to do it! I never-

[ all he had wanted had been just simple things. a touch to his head, his father's arms around him, a simple, clean taste of soup. of sunlight filtering through willow trees and dappling over the river, that had been all.

he is right; he had never seen it, never saw the sacrifices that he had made for him, the extent that he had gone to protect him. like a child he is, blinded with mud and petulant about it, only choosing to see what he wanted to see. even now the feeling is still there, some wild desire to leave, to turn on his heels, to let go, but in the end, the other wins out - the ache bone-deep, soaked into the very marrow of his bones, beyond anger and sadness.

some day, he will say those words. some day, it will be in tears - but not yet, not yet. ]

Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you think you could have kept it from me forever, that you will take it to your second grave? [ they are at crossroads again, almost meeting but never quite touching. ]

You say it wasn't easy-

[ like cutting off a limb, like some lingering, phantom pain, it stays like a stubborn stain, like some old wound that won't heal. ]

You should have fucking told me. You should have told me yourself. How little did you fucking care, that you send your shitty Wen-thing to do the job for you?

[ the blood drips down his chin, spatters onto the breast of his shirt, over his heart. It feels like molten rock, like scalding water. The scars on his chest burns hot, the blue glow subsided in the parting of the ways but it is not from that he feels. ]

[gasping]

I don't know.

[ an echo; she's said it before, but it remains true. though caroline knows the bare bones of the scenario, the further details remain a mystery to her.

his head tips down to hers, forehead brushing against her own, and she sighs, a soft exhale that settles her shoulders and attempts to flood the bond between them with a sense of calm. ]

Nobody does.

[ it isn't much of a reassurance, but she does not move away. she lingers there, half-drowned in an emotional tidal wave; her hands come up to rest against his upper arms, finding his skin warm to the touch where the sleeves of the scrub top cut off. ]

Mystic Falls is... gone. [ the world they know is gone, lost to history, but mystic falls is where caroline centers the story. she doesn't know any other way. ] We're in New Amsterdam in the future, somehow, and we have these... things in our head.

[ her hand lifts, suddenly, to drape up the column of his neck, following it up to the nape and then the back of his head, where a surgical scar is sure to mirror her own. fingertips gently brush through the cropped hair to trace over it, a frown marring her features for a brief moment before it's pushed away, swallowed by a forced reassuring smile. ]

They're not so bad. The implants are kind of helpful, actually, in a weird way. Like having a computer you don't have to plug in.

[ only caroline would find the silver lining in non-consensual body modifications. ]

It's the empathy bond that's the hard part for most people. And the powers. [ hers, recently discovered, and as of yet untrained. she hasn't yet determined how to summon it, either. ] And not being able to do things they could before.

[ like compulsion. but she doesn't call it out, because she doesn't know what he knows. or what he is, for that matter. she knows there's something between them, but to what level of honesty is still a mystery. ]

[gasping]

[ she hasn't thought this through. she hasn't done much thinking at all, really, beyond fractured snippets of desire and wanting and giddy, reckless enthusiasm. if she had, she might have considered that ferris wheels do more than just bring riders up into the air.

they also bring them down.

if she was thinking clearly, she might realize that the gradual warmth in the night air was a signal to their slow descent. she might consider that the pushed-back lap bar and her position could be witnessed by the general public. but caroline barely thinks about anything at all beyond the greedy, desperate desire to feel more of what he's offering.

his mouth drags across the pulse point of her neck, where she can feel her heartbeat thumping, and down to the bare skin of her shoulder; as he moves, her head rolls back, a low groan of appreciation spilling out into the space between them. ]

God, that feels good.

[ or maybe she's just easy to please. could be a little of both. ]

[resleeves]

Klaus. [ what a fuckin' name. ] Appropriate.

[ trust some fucking asshole with a fetish for blood and necks to have a name that made him sound like he would be better off in a fucking old folks home. did those still exist? maybe they should create one for this fucker. ]

Come on. [ he takes a seat at the bar, eyeing klaus dubiously the entire time before ordering a fucking bottle of cheap shit and asking for a wash rag for his neck. the bartender barely blinks before going to do the things that'll get him paid. ]

This better not fucking scar. I don't need someone asking me why I got a violent hickey.

[poppycock]

( that brush of calm, so utterly caroline in its concern and tenderness, is more effective in its intention than its practice. his heart feels full and erratic in his chest; he listens to her words and processes them with the practicality and cold ruthlessness to which he is known, but the wash of her emotions, her quiet touches so ripe and sweet, leave him aching.

does she know? can she tell? how he hangs on every word, every fingerprint, his stillness a lie to the tumult within. they've never been this: so casually intimate it sears him, but to pull away from the flame seems like a more acute madness than to burn with it.

he lets her touches. he craves them, his breath steady but controlled and short.

he's not upset to hear that mystic falls is gone. if he is, it's but a moment to acknowledge his first and terrible home is gone. good riddance: everything rises and falls. the place where his father beat him and his mother bore them is no true loss to him. what concerns him more is the implications. what he feels like a score is her loss, the thread of it in her voice, in her heart. tentative warmth reaches between them and it burns with fear and something else at the touch of her fingers at the back of his neck.

his eyes nearly close with pleasure, the sensation at odds with the roil of distaste and a thin, terrible flare of anger. he's noticed the scar. he's wondered at its purpose. his hand lifts now, sweeping away the golden curls covering the slim, milky white of her shoulder, his thumb slating firm and gentle up the column of her neck, finding her own with purpose. something settles in him, heavy and dangerous, for whoever cut into her skin. into his. even in this helplessness, especially so, he considers how he'll enjoy tearing them into pieces.

despite her smile. despite the levelheadedness of her reply. there's a promising darkness in his eyes, cut by tenderness. his touch leaves her neck to follow her shoulder, move up the length of her arm as she speaks; he takes her hand at the end and presses them both, intwined, to his chest.

he doesn't ask about the implant. he understands. he doesn't mention the bond: he doesn't mind it, at the moment. the mention of powers seize him, confound him, scare him, but he tucks that away for just now. he also knows perfectly well he cannot do much of what he could before.

what he wants to know, what he needs to know, what he can grasp, is this: ) What do you remember?

[poppycock]

( one of the blessed things about living in new orleans is that with precious time and distance, he has forgotten the particular needling effects of damon salvatore's unfortunate existence. the narrow-minded vengeance, the poor and pathetic execution, and the self-interested audacity have faded into the recesses of his mind, becoming a faint recollection, and yet with each passing moment he's reminded with vivid clarity just how exasperating a buzzing insect can be.

he pauses with long-suffering annoyance to sigh, short and sound, and to roll his eyes skyward, because of course. up is down, the future is now, time travel apparently does exist, and damon is still concerned with mystic falls.

(he doesn't spare the onlookers a glance ftr.)

well. he supposes he should enjoy this, regardless. damon's attack surely can't go unpunished, violence is the language they speak, he's had a rough day and a punching bag seems like a grand idea, etc. with eagerness he speeds forward, doing away with his own offending stake, grabs damon's wrist, and impales the easel wood in his hand from sternum to lung. ) I don't recall it being much of a choice, ( he responds simply, his hand wrapping around damon's neck and slowly lifting him to his toes. ) But I thank you for the kind welcome. ( he dimples, and presses the weapon just a bit deeper. ) My palette was missing a fundamental red.

[fuelcage]

That's one way of putting it.

[ Thankfully she's learned not to look too hard at the maybe non-humans she encounters. You get one look at Mileena's face and you decide maybe you didn't need to sleep anyway.

But this guy doesn't seem to match the rest of the crowd, ears aside. Maybe he was dumped here like her? She quirks an eyebrow. ]

You got a map?

[fuelcage]

[ cool, cool, cool this is common enough that there's a protocol for it. neat. ]

I lost track of the others, but... Yeah.

[wangxian]

[ he cannot deny him.

lan wangji offers without thinking, gives without question of it— the way that wei wuxian’s attention settles against him a command enough for him to forfeit the shirt that lan wangji has brought him, warmed by the way he’d cradled it against his arm. like all that was left to him in those long years, carried and cared for, a pressed like summer blooms with his books. in youth, it would be hard to say that he would have become this way, a finer piece of jade. and yet, he allowed himself to be carved. wei wuxian and all his words had chipped away at his heart, had chipped away at the surrounding ribs. and he had left lan wangji as this: lit only by the wash of favor that wei wuxian would give him, cleared of any bitterness.

and so, it is with reflected reluctance, that lan wangji too frees him. and more, there is something in his manner that ( in itself ) appears to harden, the flirtatious nature of her initial commentary to wei wuxian building for him room to glare, her approach shifting into what she gives wei wuxian and himself as he tugs them closer there ( tugs, as he has always tugged, lan wangji lassoed as an errant star across a stream ). and perhaps it is fair, to say that she cannot read the room at all, if there are only assumptions upon her tongue.

assumptions, that lead to the softer burn of pinks at lan wangji’s ears— the softer way of his breathing, as wei wuxian stutters in his normal flow of entry, his response somehow caught in the way he nudges in-between them, his back pressed near his front.

couple’s discount, she had said. lan wangji’s heart thuds once. once, and then again. and soon, there is only the downward flutter of his lashes, the way lan wangji cannot look away as much as he cannot look upon him ( wei wuxian, his wei ying, this manifestation caught between lan wangji and the woman who sees right through him ).

there is something in the way lan wangji’s mouth twists, in ways that do not convey revulsion, but rather a bid. like once before, like twice before— like the endless times before, lan wangji finds he cannot free any of them. he finds he cannot loose them as though fish from nets, as though an arrow pulled from the breast of wild geese. struck dumb with the weight of them, he instead holds what he can. wei wuxian’s cups clink as he presses them nearer to his chest, his fingers intermittent in their tightening. he holds each one as though they were precious and delicate things, tries again to speak of anything, but the woman is more skilled than lan wangji is. many are, in this event.

the woman takes up her vessels, her dark eyes gleaming as she fills two up. as though she had not heard either of them, she nudges them forward with her knuckles as she hums, her mouth bowed and words notched with the growing sharp of her perception. she winks.

Better for me, young man! Tall, shy guys like him— your partner could probably drink me out of business! Here, here. Take the two anyway! Drink it for him! He won’t tell you no!

and it is surely true, as lan wangji’s pale eyes catch the stall’s dim lights— burn somehow brighter and somehow warmer than anything at all. ]

[poppycock]

( klaus sits beside him, entirely at ease, and silently signals the bartender to bring the him the same. the beer, at least. as he retreats, he blithely responds, ) Oddly enough, you haven't asked me why I gave you a violent hickey.

[fuelcage]

Yet.

[ said with good humor. its been like twelve whole hours and it feels Wrong. ]

Pizza fixes basically all problems.

[gradual]

( he glances over to the cot and actually goes to sit down because why not? it beats leaning against the wall. kol can't tell just how long it's been since he last fed, but judging by the fact that fitz here is looking concerned means he must look pretty rough. it really works out nicely for him then if he's being given that sympathetic, concerned look. )

I honestly feel like death. ( it's not even an exaggeration considering he would start to dessicate if he doesn't feed. of course, it would take about a week for that to happen, but still. ) I had an awful lot of moonshine earlier. Did you manage to have any? There was this whole sampling booth thing.