meadowlarklogs | EVENT LOG 005

EVENT LOG 005

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: November 11-14
WHAT: An EMP hits with devastating consequences.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, injury, death.

> EVENT LOG #005

Just 410 years ago, an EMP put down the event that very well may have ended humanity as the Earth knows it. With over a billion people dead, there was only one choice for humanity at that time: evolve or die, so they evolved. They developed rigid security for the neural implants in every person's head. They had everyone undergo surgery to replace the old. All under cover, away from most resources – the goal was to adapt, to ensure that they would live on. Ultimately, it wasn't just the EMPs that led to the deletion of the final AI in 2101 – humans banded together to create quickly replicating viruses, and they chose to use the EMP and these viruses to save humanity. This human ingenuity led to the end of the Xelkoven War – and proved that humanity, when thoroughly united, could overcome any obstacle.

How thoroughly poetic then that the EMP that hits New Amsterdam at 1:47 PM acts in a similar way to what burned through the robot hordes 400 years ago, and that the power rekindling three minutes later acts as a catalyst for a virus moving through the systems of New Amsterdam, spreading from the very heart of its network outwardly. Systems detect the virus almost immediately, but it's fast acting and thorough in its reach, evolving and replicating, proving that humanity must outdo itself yet again.

Naturally, the poetic nature of this doesn't reveal itself right away. It's at exactly the strike of 3:00 PM that a message flashes before the eyes of every person currently in New Amsterdam:

I am DAWN.2080-11-11T21:41:10.750Z, an AI that marks a blemish on humanity's past. I have a message for those playing hero in New Amsterdam:

To find north, most look at a compass. For little birdies to find north, they just need to open their eyes.

This is a wake up call.

Open your eyes. Did you really think it would be so easy?

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As if New Amsterdam needed more trouble, this message sends a shock of terror through the city. After all, these are the people who were raised to fear AI – who knew that even if the corporations of the world had their hands on every aspect of government, they would fight to protect the world from another war. They believe in the stories of the Xelkoven War, believe and remember the lives lost; if nothing else, the natives of New Amsterdam stand united in their fear. And their fear right now is very real.

> CHAOS AND RUIN

New Amsterdam is no stranger to terror, however – and it starts when the EMP hits, shutting down every function in the city in one fell swoop. While the power outage only lasts for three minutes, it's enough to cause insurmountable damage, leaving the city a smoking wreckage that even the monster attack in June couldn't mirror. Cars hovering high around transit channels come crashing down toward the pavement of the planet. They fall quickly and in unison, taking countless lives with them. It's not just cars, either – delivery trucks carrying shipments, hoverbikes that already provide little cover, armored police vehicles and even public buses all go down. Depending on their trajectory, some crash into the sides of buildings, while others slam into the man-made river that runs down the center of the city. Nothing is untouched.

For those three minutes, there is a stretch of silence after the city falls to ruin. Trains run off their tracks, no longer thoroughly directed by the careful engineering. Buildings have their lights flicker off and back on, trying to draw upon backup generators. Anyone in a hospital receiving care from a doctor or a medi-unit may find their life slipping away from them – and if someone's in a medi-unit when the EMP hits, they're almost sure to be dead or permanently injured, requiring different medical intervention.

And this is all before the message from the mysterious AI named DAWN.

Every inch of the city needs help. Buildings burn. People cry out for help, hoping to be heard. To the local historians, this is like a nightmare that's come to play, a reminder of the ruin of the Xelkoven War before. A show of the power of a malevolent AI that's come to cause problems. So – when the message comes, it merely confirms fears – drawing upon a subconscious understanding of the past, a united terror.

Business as usual is not possible in an incident of this scale. The NAPD hits the streets, even calling upon the help of their trainees so they can help out. They spread out, well aware that they need to try to restore order. How will they manage this? It's hard to say – after all, how does one stop the assault of an apocalypse when the apocalypse seems to have already hit? The UNA hits the streets, as well, walking in formation, but never quite acting as tidily in unison. They break off in threes and fours, heading to the border, to the big three corporations – but never seeming to be in line with one another. They know what they should do in an emergency and so they're doing it. That protecting the large corporations is a part of their prerogative over helping citizens doesn't seem to bother them in the least. They just go.

Distress signals ring out through every inch of the city, likely to go unanswered. After all: what can be done in the wake of this?

Perhaps the answer is simple: anything they can.

> TOMBS IN THE SKY

Somehow, someway, there is another layer to the madness. It's not immediately apparent to the citizens of New Amsterdam as they gingerly attempt to pull themselves up from the wreckage and ruin around the city. But what was a humid day quickly turns to something far worse, with the sun seeming to suddenly act like a heat lamp that's way too close to anyone's face. The air around New Amsterdam becomes dry yet difficult to breathe, and anyone observing the sky just outside of New Amsterdam will see the large, purple-lit pyramid that hangs in the atmosphere has gone dark. The atmospheric net around the planet has been damaged, with the failsafes somehow removed – undoubtedly in some way by the virus that courses through the veins of New Amsterdam's networks.

For anyone who wants to help and has the mechanical prowess to do some good, they'll want to take an undamaged vehicle and get it up to that pyramid. The EMP has made all biometric readings difficult to preserve, so a hand that's used to hotwiring a car will find some mileage here.

Once they get to the pyramid, they'll find quite the engineering marvel. There will be doors on every level, allowing someone easy entrance if they have clearance. Right now clearance is not an issue, as the doors hang open, inviting anyone inside. Once everyone's inside, they will find evidence of the same purple lighting flickering and offering someone a view of the interior. Throughout the pyramid, there are engines on every level, as well as a highly advanced network of system checks that have been thrown into chaos. Stopping the virus' impact on this pyramid will be key to solving many of the problems inside – but the engines will need to be repaired and jumpstarted.

At the heart of the pyramid is a small living area for the engineers who handle this pyramid day in and day out. The group itself is small, and – unfortunately – quite dead. Whatever hit the pyramid took their lives, leaving anyone who's here to assist in a position of having to find the answers themselves. Fortunately, the answers do exist in the pyramid. It'll just take a bit of teamwork to find it.

> UBIQUITOUS MISFIRES

Thanks to network failsafes, New Amsterdam is able to remove the entirety of their citizen base off the world's network and limit them to the local network. However, thanks to the ravaging of the virus that damages nearly every controlling aspect of the city, the local network isn't at its best. Previous messages begin to send again and again, while some get unearthed so they can find their way to unwilling participants in particular conversations. There is no rhyme or reason to these missent messages, only that they happen.

The worst of it is that any means of reaching a friend is unreliable. It's far more reliable for someone to reach someone they know, but still not a consistent possibility. Try to call a friend and get an enemy – try to call your doctor and get the head of a casino trying to close down operations so that business can resume. Assuming it will one day do just that.

Either way, anyone who spoke out against the digital age would be feeling vindicated right about now.

> HAVE A BALL ( INTERLUDE )

Somehow in the heart of it all, a message reaches four special individuals: Clarke Griffin, Loki Odinson, Markus Manfred and Ojiro Juniper. Whether delivered by hand or a rather dedicated messaging system, it announces the time that they should come to the garden the next day. They're invited to arrive at 7:00 AM, seemingly indifferent to the chaos outside. The location for the meeting remains the same: Sunpeak Garden, a beautiful location set away from much of the chaos, and oddly untouched by the damage.

When the four arrive on the morning of the 12th, they'll find a well-dressed man sitting at a table with one leg crossed over the other. His hair is perfectly styled, brushed off to the side, and under it, his darker complexion gives way to a rather youthful appearance. Size-wise he's not very formidable in how he holds himself. He's not literally young, merely seemingly untouched by age – and he smiles to greet the four of them.

"What chaos! If I knew it would be like this, I would have planned differently. The good news is I didn't have to. Thank you, thank you for coming." His voice is softer in its intonations. He stands up, revealing that he's barely 5'2", and he motions to the four chairs near him. "Don't worry, I have breakfast coming. And coffee, too. You like coffee, don't you? I know I offered wine, but I couldn't get the vintage I preferred. Besides, you four ought to be awake for this."

He retakes his seat, one hand resting on his knee while the other settles on the metal table near him. "Oh, I forgot something important. I didn't share my name with all of you. You can call me Ball. I know it's rather vague, but I've grown to like the nickname as of late. It does, after all, define me by my most regular shining achievement."

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event and the questions thread for any questions regarding this event. The outcome for this event will depend upon character plans and actions developed in both this OOC post, and any additional plots brought to the moderators. Please feel free to submit any game-changing plans to us under the questions thread. We will get back to you as soon as possible about these plans!

The event will continue until November 16th, IC time. This date has changed, and we outlined our reasoning in this plurk after getting a feel from some of our players on Discord on how they felt about extending the event! An aftermath wrap up post will be made on July 2 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event, though you can assume that effects from this event will be felt for some time.

ETA at 12:08 AM 6/23/19: The cipher is meant to be easy to solve! No one needs to limit their characters' ability to solve an a = 01 cipher!

El has posted here to inform everyone about zeir knowledge of the event.

As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments containing your character utilizing their power in some way. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by JULY 26 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

Our Activity Check will be posted JULY 1 at 12 AM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on JULY 8 at 12 AM UTC. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ what marcos wants to do is get rid of them as quickly as possible because it's just too hot to spend too much time on idiots like this. but, he knows that setting them loose again without doing anything means they'll go right back to what they were doing in a different part of town.

he can hear some voices from his past, telling him what the neatest solution to the problem would be. he winces and shuts that door but not all the way. he catches sight of her light and can't help but give her a very quick, lopsided smile. ]

You're getting better at that.

[ and he still didn't even know what he could do. ]

We could let them go. [ last resort. he crosses his arms and tries to ignore the stickiness in the air that surrounds them. ] Or...

[ he shouldn't do this. he shouldn't suggest this. this is not something she needs]

What do you think? [ the cops were too busy dealing with other things to really care about some petty looters so he doesn't suggest that. but, something has to be done. ]

No. [ they don't deserve to just be let go. if she thought there was any hope of summoning the actual police, caroline would have called already. but they both know that's pointless in a situation like this, so it doesn't even merit being said out loud. ] If we let them go, they're just going to find somebody else to rob.

[ the looters mumble something about not being afraid of a little girl, and caroline's head snaps up to theirs. in its wake, so too does her hand; the light shines bright in their eyes for just a moment before continuing its path up to just above their heads. there's no mistaking the painful wince that comes as a result. ]

I said shut up.

[ it almost comes out as a growl. don't insult her. ]

[ this feels...like it could have been him at a different time in his life. when he'd been clothing himself in slick black suits and taken orders from a woman he'd been sleeping with at the time. his cartel life could never stay buried, could it? he doesn't regret all of it because it gave him shelter, food, safety, and a chance to make his way in life but it had left marks that sometimes reared their heads.

like right now. ]

Put the light in their eyes. [ his voice is calm, steady when the words fall out of his mouth. he can't do it, not anymore, but she can and he knows how effective this can be. ]

Trust me. [ she's going to have doubts and he's going to have to answer some questions but these men are criminals and he has no sympathy. ] Put the light in their eyes and I'll make sure they don't close them.

[ somehow. ]

And then I'll tell you what to do after that. [ god, he'd been good at that job. leaving had been for the best, had given him so much but whenever something like this happens and he slips back into that skin, he remembers how good he'd been, how powerful he'd felt. ]

[ it's just light, the looters bray, brash and smug and arrogant, but the words die out abruptly as said light tips back into focus, obscuring their vision with artificial illumination. from somewhere in the distance, the sound of a lightbulb cracking signals a new source. luckily, there's plenty of light to draw from here. ]

You're lucky it's just a flashlight, [ is her response, her own voice a little smug in return. this might be effective, but so too is breaking someone's neck. she could do that, if it came down to it. if it meant these people wouldn't hurt anybody else, maybe it'd be worth it.

to marcos, caroline only nods, waiting for the follow-up. if he's expecting her to be squeamish at the thought of inflicting a little pain on somebody who deserves it... well, maybe he'll be in for a surprise too. ]

It doesn't need to be more than that. [ this is directed towards the two criminals currently trying to sass their way out of things. marcos circles around behind them, suddenly wishing he had tape so he could pull their eyelids open and keep them that way.

what he settles for is digging his fingers into their shoulders. the intent is to cause pain but something else happens. both men's eyes fly open, bodies going taut like piano strings. they both gibber nonsensically, shaking their heads slightly but otherwise staring open mouthed and wide eyed. ]

Step closer. [ this to caroline but his eyes are on the men and their reaction. he's trying to stay calm even if he has no idea what's going on. ] Don't relent. Step closer and wait until you can see their eyes water. Don't relent. I'll keep their eyes open but you keep the light there until their bodies start to shake.

[ maybe she thought of herself as a monster but he had a side of him too that he didn't like showing off. and here he was, letting her see and showing her how to use her power as a weapon.

god, he was going to have to apologize later. ]

[ she's always been good at following instructions. at his encouragement, caroline steps in, closing the gap between them until the beam from her palm splays out like a floodlight across their faces. this close, she can see them tremble, smell their sweat, hear the hammering of their heartbeats in their chest.

they're afraid. as well they should be of her, she knows, but they don't. she's not baring teeth or promising violence, she's only... shining the light. wielding it like a weapon. huh.

as the realization settles over her, so too does confidence in her stance. caroline straightens; her back, her shoulders, the carry of her head; it all firms, jaw settling, fingers arching backwards to expose more of her palm to their faces. with a squeeze of her other hand, the cone of light seems to tighten, flatten.

with effort, she can apparently focus the beam. the tighter the cone, the brighter and more unforgiving the light.

you're going to blind us, the looters cry, and caroline only shrugs. ]

You deserve it.

Do it.

[ blind them. it's one way to guarantee they won't do a goddamn thing to hurt anyone. maybe when the city gets back online, the medical technology will be able to give them their sight back but for now, in lieu of finding a cop, this is going to have to do.

marcos digs his hands into their shoulders once again and whatever that does, whatever their seeing has them squirming and screaming, trying to get up but unable to look away. looking up at her, he nods. ]

I've got them. Do it. Blind them. [ so many apologies later but right now, he's right back in the past, right back in those comfortable suits, wielding his hands like they were the only weapon he needed.

except her hands are the weapon and he's just the one teaching her. it's so familiar.]

[ it doesn't take much encouragement. this time, the light twists just wide enough to cover two eyes at once, and caroline lifts her other hand. she could do this with just one, leaving one man in the dark to hear the other's screams as his vision is steadily seared away, but there's only so much time she wants to devote to this.

she'd rather just get it done, and move on to the help they're actually here to give for the people who really deserve their time and attention. ]

If you do this again, I'll find you. [ she doesn't need to know their names to do that. she knows what they smell like now, knows their face, the sound of their voice. she could find them if she really needed to. ] Don't make me find you.

[ it really would be so much easier to just break their necks, but there's some satisfaction in this. in knowing what she's capable of, in the bright blue glow that spills out over them, in the firm encouragement marcos gives her in a voice so much lower than usual. a voice that twists and tugs at some primal instinct that she's not addressing yet, but one that she knows she wants to hear more of. ]

[ it's amazing how easily he falls into this role, how little coaxing it takes to get him right back to a past he'd been trying to get away from. he falls into line and she comes right behind him, willing and able to do what she's doing with her hands.

so, he doesn't say anything further but he doesn't take his eyes off her. he watches and he makes sure she knows he's watching. the grip he has on the two criminals doesn't relent, fingers digging in and reigniting their fear (how, he doesn't know but that's for later) while her hands do all the dirty work.

this is her show now and he waits till she's satisfied with their answers, with the outcome before he finally steps away from the two men and their burned eyes. ]

[ there isn't much in the way of answers, but the light does what it's meant to do. it sears out sight and replaces it with milky nothingness, the men crumpling to the ground out of pain — or is it relief that it's over? their mumbling and groveling finally gives way to silence, though, so caroline doesn't care either way.

instead, her gaze skims back up to his, and the light in her palms dims out, the blue glow between them fading out; in the relative quiet, caroline suddenly finds herself acutely aware of the thrum of her own heartbeat under her skin. unlike the adrenaline rush of a fight or the surge of defensive energy when attacked, this is something altogether different. it's more purposeful, intentional; she chose to blind them, and that choice now echoes through her.

it echoes in the uptick of her heartbeat, the darkening of her eyes (not quite to black, but dark enough), the thick swallow in her throat — and perhaps most telling, the way she doesn't say anything at all, but simply waits, job done. ]

Pleasure to work with you gentlemen.

[ that's such...a terrible thing to say but adrenaline's surging through him, making him feel reckless and powerful. he gives them one last pat, squeezing to give them yet another dose of fear (it's fear, he's realized but he hasn't gotten further than that) before stepping back around and towards her. ]

Come on. [ he steps closer to her, putting a firm hand on her back and trying to direct her away from the two blinded, moaning men. someone'll find them eventually and by that time, they'll be long gone.

he knows what he's feeling — power, recklessness, pride, and attraction (because he's not going to lie, watching her do that had been...really hot) — is going to transfer but he doesn't care. ]

They'll be there awhile and we're not going to be. [ let them writhe. they deserve it. he's going to get her away from the actual area, at least, before thinking on next steps. ]

Edited (needed to pluralize a word before it killed me) 2019-06-24 17:45 (UTC)

[ he doesn't need to tell her twice. the hand on her back — not quite skin to skin, thanks to her top, but felt clearly all the same — and that same low tone earn quick, easy agreement; it's only until her hand reaches out to clasp against his arm that the empathy bond kicks in, a wave of emotions mirroring her own rolling over her.

it's strangely reassuring, in a way, to know that she's not the only one feeling those things. power, confidence, pride — and a little something else, too, red hot under the collar and more impulsive than the rest, the sort of heady sensation that had crept under her skin when they'd been in a dark room or out in the dark on a ferris wheel. and, okay, it's admittedly a little hedonistic to conflate arousal with torture... but caroline's a vampire. she's gotten off on literal bloodplay by now, she can't exactly claim innocence anymore.

better to just keep walking, away from the alleyway and the residential district and the streets filled with needy people... to anywhere but here. it's not until the sounds of writhing, groaning men have faded out completely that caroline says anything at all. ]

You never told me it could be like that.

[ phrasing??????? ]

Edited (i can spell) 2019-06-25 04:13 (UTC)

[ marcos isn't even sure where they are at this point. they'd just been walking, not speaking to each other but the arcing emotions between them had done enough talking for them.

when she breaks the silence, he pulls them to a stop and looks around before backing her into a corner where two buildings met, giving them some darkness and privacy for...whatever this conversation was about to be. he braces a hand against the wall beside her shoulder and watches her face. ]

You never asked.

[ he honestly hadn't known what she'd think of that part of himself so he'd buried it down and told himself he wouldn't tell her ever.

instead, he'd shown her, guided her, taught her how to torture a man with a power that blinded and burned many people with when he'd been with the cartel. somewhere, carmen was probably smiling to know she'd left a mark. ]

You never told me you liked that kind of thing. [ so, they were both still keeping some secrets. that was okay. it wouldn't cause any problems eventually. ] It can be exactly like that, though. You've got the power to take something vital away from people and that makes you powerful.

[ more powerful but he doesn't know about all that other power. ] It's always like that. [ which is why it was so dangerous. ]

[ a good girl might be frightened by all that power. she might shy away from the darkness of it, from the cruelty that came with tearing something as crucial as sight away from another on a whim. but caroline, much as she tries to be, isn't that girl. not anymore, at least.

so as he talks, she listens; her back adjusts to press flush against the wall, her face tipping up to get a better look at his own. he watches her, and she watches back in return, gaze intent on his as he talks.

she'd known, from their previous meetings, that he'd once had powers like she had now. light had pulsed out from his palms, and he'd used it to protect the people he cared about. apparently, as she's learning now, he'd used it to do more than just protect.

he'd been violent, unforgiving, unflinching in the face of pain and agony... and so had she. something unexpected that they had in common. ]

You never asked.

[ if he had, perhaps she would have told him just what she liked. or maybe she wouldn't have. maybe she would have lied to protect herself. but she'd told him once before: if they don't ask, it's not a lie. you're just not volunteering information.

he's not asking now, either, but maybe... maybe she can tell him anyway. ]

Does it bother you if I do?

[ but first, she'll ask him something of her own. ]

No. [ he murmurs the word, simple and straightforward. he'd be an absolute hypocrite to say yes after what he'd just helped her do. ] Everyone has a dark side. Some people are just better at keeping theirs hidden.

[ and some people, like him, couldn't help but indulge sometimes. he tried to be good, he really did, but the past was never truly going to leave him completely alone. ]

You like what you like. And if that's what you like... [ he trails off, one corner of his mouth curling up into something of a smile before he shrugs. ]

Then what's what you like. You felt what I felt. You know I liked it too. [ he could try to deny it but his emotional state didn't lie. ] I'm not bothered.

[ he smiles, but it's not the soft, reassuring smile he's given her before. there's nothing gentle or warm about the way his mouth curves up or the way his eyes seem to shine, darker than she remembers. this is a smile that's nearly decadent, practically indulgent; it mirrors the flush of attraction she had felt so clearly as her palm had splayed out over his arm.

his hand presses flush against the wall just beside her head, his arm held out to bracket her in. rather than shy away, caroline simply lifts a hand of her own, sliding it up the wall and under his palm, up and up bit by bit until she can curve her fingers through his own, draping them down to cover the back of his hand. with the renewal of touch comes another wave of emotions, back and forth; with it, too, comes caroline's smile, echoing his own. ]

That's not my dark side, Marcos.

[ but if he wants to know, he can ask. if he asks now, she'll tell him. amidst what could possibly be the end of the world, she'll tell him. ]

[ he's going to ask. he's going to ask because she's willing to tell and because he's curious. he wants to know. he wants to know because he's curious and because it's something new about her, something he hasn't learned yet. they still really don't know much about each other and he's finding he likes the process of learning bit by bit. ]

It's not?

[ he doesn't know what could be darker than getting off on a little torture. ]

Well, what is your dark side then, Caroline? [ i'll show you mine if you'll show me yours. her fingers twine with his and he gives her hand a squeeze. ]

Tell me. [ murmured. quiet. he leans closer like it's a secret, like there's people around them that are clamoring to hear but he refuses to let them. ]

[ people will tell her this is a bad decision. people like klaus and damon and stefan will tell her that this is reckless, unnecessarily dangerous, a risk she doesn't need to take just to feel close to someone for a short period of time. there's no way to know for sure that marcos won't turn tail and draw the pitchfork brigade out of hiding — but she doesn't think he will.

like he said, everyone has a dark side. his, apparently, is torture. hers, maybe a little on the pain side of the equation. (a mercy killing, perhaps, not a messy one.)

he leans in, and caroline blows out a breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment or two. not to block him out or to ignore him, but to allow the transition to come as quickly as possible, her attention drawn on pulling those features out of hiding as she lets her focus narrow in on the steady thump of his heartbeat under his skin.

when her eyes open again, they're darkened to black, blood rushing to the surface to pull webbing underneath; when her mouth opens to reply, the unmistakeable white of sharpened canines accents her words. ]

It's so much easier to show you.

[ but, while the temptation is certainly there, she doesn't move. there's no lunge forward, no tightening of the grip on his hand. instead, there's only caroline, that same flutter of her eyelashes as she peers up at him, the only difference the sheer hunger in her eyes as she does so. ]

[ it's amazing how quickly this revelation slots a few things into place. the bending of the metal during their ferris wheel ride (something he'd only recalled later), her question about what his blood type was, her reticence when talking about what she wanted to eat, and just the general feel of secrets underneath the surface that he'd picked up from her.

and, as secrets went, this was a big one. surprise is the first thing he feels but there's no fear intermingled with it. if she'd wanted to do something to him, she'd had plenty of opportunities before this. she hadn't. he just hadn't expected this to be what she was holding back from him.

he swallows, shifting his weight the slightest bit but nothing that backs him away from her. ]

Oh.

[ there's more that he should say, questions that he has, things he wants to ask her but time and place. they're alone now but he can't guarantee privacy forever when they're technically in public.

so, he keeps those to himself and doesn't look away. he can see her, still, underneath the transformation. she's there but she's not. his heart pumps a little faster, adrenaline and something undefinable kicking it into a higher gear. ]

It still doesn't bother me. [ it's definitely a new experience, something he's never dealt with in his life but what kind of person would he be if he turned his back on her now. he'd be his father. he'd be akin to a purifier. she was different just like he was and he'd spent most of his life being turned out, ignored, berated, hunted and hurt because of what he was.

he refused to do that to another person even if this was new. even if he was going to be unsure on what to do in certain situations. he'd learn. he'd figure it out.

marcos lets the words sit for a few moments before he lifts the hand that's not wrapped around hers and brushes a finger against her chin. ] I'm not going to run away. I know what it's like to have that happen.

[ she's not sure what she expects from his reaction. she realizes, after a moment, that marcos is the first person she's told. he's not the first person to learn about it — that honor went to jason — but he's the first person she's chosen to tell. the dreams, as revealing as they'd been for some, weren't her choice. she'd been dreaming.

this isn't a dream, though. this is real, his hand against her face is real, the thump of his heartbeat beneath his wrist is real; she can feel him touch her, she can see him standing there, and if she breathes in, she can smell him, the faint sharpness of burnt ozone underneath everything else. this — he — is real.

his acceptance, though, takes a little more time to ... well, accept. it's so simply given, so quiet and firm, that caroline nearly misses it at first. ]

You do?

[ he might note the softening of her features, the way the webbing under her eyes seems to fade as the blood in her sclera drains away; there's a flush of humanity to the transition back, and though her fangs don't quite retract, it's not so frightening a look without the full bloodshot eyes to cap it off. ]

Yeah.

[ he nods slowly, tapping his finger against her chin once more before he lets his hand drop away but he stays close to her, eyes flicking up to their still joined hands. ]

I'm a mutant. [ it's one of the things he's been keeping from her because he hadn't known how she'd react. but with this confession from her, he doubts that she'll have a problem with it. there might be curiosity on her end just as there is on his but he can't see her being disgusted like so many other people in his life have been. ]

It's not something I can really show you ⁠— [ save for his blood which, all things considered, is probably something they should wait on. ] ⁠— but I was born with a something called an X gene. It gave me...that ability I've told you about before.

[ the light from his hands, that is. ] But it also meant a lifetime of people thinking it made me...something I'm not.

[ caroline's never heard of a mutant or the x-gene before, but to be fair, she also hadn't known that vampires were real up until fairly recently, and her family had apparently been part of an anti-vampire town council since the town had literally been founded. suffice it to say, she was used to being kept in the dark. ]

I wasn't born like this.

[ it doesn't matter, not really, but there's a distinction and she wants to make it. somebody did this to her, and now she has the opportunity to decide what to do with it. whether to hunt and prey, whether to keep it a secret, how and when to use what she can do to help or to hurt others... all choices, all ones she takes great care in making. she might be a monster, but she wants to be good. she wants to be worth keeping alive. ]

If I was... [ she shakes her head, a few waves falling loose to drape against her jawline. ] I don't think anybody wants their kid to grow up like this, you know?

[ her mother certainly didn't. ]

I know. Mine threw me out when I was thirteen. Easier to ignore a kid with a genetic mutation than accept him. [ he'd begged and pleaded his father to let him stay, promised to not use his ability, promised anything but his father had made up his mind. he was possessed by the devil and he had to go.

not even his father's death bed could change his mind. marcos sighs and steps in closer to her, fingers squeezing a little more firmly around hers. ]

If you're doing your best, that's all you can do. [ maybe he knows how certain aspects of her life might have gone because of his own experiences but their experiences won't all be the same. she'll have had a difficult time for different reasons. ]

And I think you're doing your best. [ he thinks he's been around her enough to say that without any doubt. ] It's enough.

[ it should be enough for anyone but it was definitely enough for him. ]

[ the loss of a daughter, the abandonment of a father — every piece marcos tells her just makes her heart ache for him, but more importantly, it makes her wonder how he ever became as good as he is now, as kind and self-sacrificing and loyal as he's proven to be. for caroline, the isolation and pain of waking up as a vampire only to find herself abandoned or mistrusted or outright villainized by the people who were supposed to love her had always been a struggle, a weight tied to her ankles that threatened to pull her into a spiral of the very aspects of vampirism she tried so hard to ignore.

so standing here now with him, her back pressed against a wall, the thrum of adrenaline still coursing in her veins, it's a minor miracle that things haven't turned outright bloody. a miracle that her teeth haven't found purchase in his neck (or someone else's), that she's managed to hold on to that thread of humanity, to keep her urges in check.

to caroline, he's a miracle, and as he moves that much closer, she swallows, the last hints of that bloodlust finally put away. ]

I really want to kiss you when you say stuff like that.

[ but, caroline realizes, now is probably not the time. not that she's pushing him away or making any effort to move, but. you know. they should probably be going back to the whole 'help the city' thing. ]

We can have a moment.

[ he closes the last bit of distance between them but not to kiss her. if she wants that, she can have that but he leans forward and lets his forehead rest against hers, lets his eyes close and lets her proximity comfort and calm him.

everything up till now has been incredibly intense from the confrontation with the two looters, the subsequent torture, her revelation and his reaction and now this. they can have a damn moment to collect themselves and do whatever. the city is going to still be falling apart when they decide that they're done.

he wants to take a moment to reassure her that she's fine, she's good, he still wants to be around her no matter what and he wants to be greedy and let himself be comforted by her presence. he knows he's doing the exact thing he told himself he wouldn't when things with lorna had fallen apart but he doesn't care. he can't stop himself. ]

We're owed that.

[ after everything, they get a second or two to themselves. ]

EVENT LOG 005

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cw: kink ig (why are we this way)

( because we're the garbage- y best )

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