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ARRIVAL LOG 013
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: December 5 (and a little of December 6)
WHAT: The thirteenth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion, loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.
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. Your eyes are heavy, hard to keep open, but in the glimpses between slow, dark blinks you see two people in front of you: one dressed in a thick set of armor, while the other wears medical garb. Out the windshield in front, there are many tall buildings—all reaching up beyond a normal city skyline, all entirely too close for the vehicle itself.
You realize there is one other next to you. Both of you are in white scrubs and a bright yellow raincoat, hair recently cut but at different stages of growth, and held in place by a simple seatbelt. However, thanks to the IV dripping into your arm, it seems that there's no real need for more than that. 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 lowers from its height and comes to a stop inside of an alley, tall brick walls surrounding where you are. Before either individual in the front moves, one begins to speak. It's the one in armor—she shifts and begins her spiel: "You have very specific steps you need to follow. First: don't look for cops. Don't do anything that would get you arrested. That means murder, theft, or even assuming you won't be spotted doing either of these. You will. Oh, you will. Second: wait for some pals to show up. Ask them to prove you have the glow. And then go with them. You can enjoy the parade if you want." Her hand reaches to push the door open, then she briefly pauses. "Ah, right. The other thing. Tell them I didn't know that the lost ones weren't really lost. I made a mistake." There is a rumble of sound in her throat, and then she gets moving. The nurse joins her, reaching in on each side to pull out the catheter, covering it with a quick bandage.
The guard begins to guide you out after that. Your limbs feel wooden and heavy, slow to move. There is a sound of rhythmic instruments in the distance. The nurse checks your vital signs, murmuring for you to stay put. All of these actions are quick and firm, but not entirely unkind.
After the nurse is done, he nods toward the guard and heads back to the driver's side. The guard joins him. The engine powers up again—soundless against the musical sounds just off in the distance—and then it's gone.
You're left alone in an alley in a mysterious town with a lot of futuristic appearances. Around the corner, several low flying vehicles scoot by, covered in bright lights. A constant jingle accompanies each of these vehicles. It seems that you've been dropped off in the middle of a parade, and for some reason, whoever's released you genuinely thinks you'll be noticeable in all this mess.
◉ 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 – and that includes the lengthy message passed on from the mysterious patron.
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.
Just in time for some holiday cheer, we've got new arrivals who've been dumped out near the Sinterklass parade. Just two of them this time, so I'm sure a few of you can find time in your busy schedules to go grab them.
Never passing up an opportunity to go big, New Amsterdam calls upon any and all traditions that it can for Christmas time. That means the citizens of this fine city have come to celebrate multiple December holidays, with the first being the most traditional for the former Amsterdam: the Feast of Sinterklaas. All of the city's decorations were set up by December 1st, with bright, colorful lights dressing every building in the central part of the city. Christmas trees line the streets one by one, with a drop box at their bases prepared so that citizens can offer goods for charity. These trees are artificial, with simple and classic white lights and silver and gold tinsel. By time Sinterklaas Eve rolls around, everyone is ready to participate in some true New Amsterdam merriment.
Sinterklaas Eve begins with a boisterous parade that cuts through New Amsterdam, completely indifferent to the steady fall of rain. This parade is garish and full of technological wonder, with the floats designed specifically for this event year after year. There are no repeats, with all three of New Amsterdam's big corporations sponsoring the creation of these marvels. These floats have a lot of moving parts, and each one seems to tell a story of Christmas throughout history, with a few taking a guess at Christmas in the future when humanity is happy and settled on Mars or Jupiter. Any of the Giles Bell floats will be slowing down the procession, ensuring that they give out as much food and clothing as they can (and later reports state that this is thanks to the intervention of Joseph Lynch). Interspersed throughout the parade are many calls for volunteers and assistance to help New Amsterdam, as well as a number of dance troupes and musical acts.
The big man himself brings up the rear of the parade. Dressed in all red, Sinterklaas takes his sweet time to show up on a beautiful white steed. In reality, this steed is a hoverbike designed by the engineers at Pulsar. For the past hundred years, these engineers have worked to ensure that this horse is nothing less than real seeming. Once Sinterklaas lowers his steed to the ground, it walks and gallops like a real animal. The only thing this mechanical beast doesn't do is leave behind a trail of messy droppings—and you better believe that there are debates online about whether it should do just that.
This year, the parade procession ends at New Amsterdam's Stadium. Just outside of the stadium, numerous people have left a single shoe with a carrot inside, inviting Sinterklaas and his horse inward. Sinterklaas makes a show of picking up a few shoes, tucking them away, and "feeding" a carrot or three into his horse's "mouth." After this display, he proceeds inside of the stadium, the clopping sound of his horse sent through the entirety of New Amsterdam for all the parade viewers to hear. Now, it's time for Sinterklaas Eve festivities. Given the jam-packed month, this is a one-day affair. The Feast of Sinterklaas is meant to be shared with loved ones, and even the most commercial pushers of New Amsterdam agree with this notion.
> PARADE VIEWING
Given the massive amounts of rain coming down in New Amsterdam, watching a parade is less than practical. Numerous businesses open up their doors for the event, allowing people to purchase spots for their viewing experience. The mid-range floors are the best, and they run for the highest prices. If someone's not able to pull enough cash together to get in to one of these businesses, many restaurants around the city project the parade onto their walls from several angles, ensuring that New Amsterdam citizens can enjoy the parade in a better venue. Most of these locations come with their own catch: someone's gotta buy something if they want to stay. Otherwise, a lot of people stay home and watch on their walls with family, waiting out the parade to partake in the festivities afterward.
> CHRISTMAS MARKETPLACE
Opening on December 5th and closing on January 1st, the Christmas Marketplace is a long-running tradition brought over from Bavaria. Every year, these marketplaces set up shop in the Stadium, lined up in rows. They open bright and early every morning, closing around nine PM every night. The marketplaces are organized carefully, with prepared food on one end, kept away from any hand-tailored wares (as the location can sometimes lead to a drift of smells). Just about everything is sold here: cosmetics (both makeup and for someone's cybernetic), tattoo work, pottery and ceramics, jewelry, Christmas ornaments, clothing—and more. None of these businesses are large, typically choosing to sell their wares online in the offseason. While some of these owners prefer to stay small, others hope that they'll be noticed for their craft and brought in to a bigger corporation. Work of this sort is highly competitive.
> LAST MINUTE GIFTS
A long-standing tradition in Sinterklaas is a gift based around humor. Just inside the entrance of the stadium, there is an arts and crafts center with a lot of ridiculous items for someone to make gifts. Leftover socks with holes in them? Several cups of grasshoppers? What about shoelaces? Stale cereal? The station itself is meant for the most ridiculous of outcomes, and despite everything, it's a rather busy part of the event. Prospective artists may need to wait in line to put together their precious design.
> THE SINTERKLAAS POETRY CONTEST
Where would the future be without a social media contest to spice things up? Starting on December 5th and running to December 10th, there will be a Sinterklaas poetry contest. Admittees are asked to make a post on Cooltalk, this world's Instagram-like social media platform, with the tag SINTERKLAASMIRACLE2019 with their submission to the contest. Any ambitious poets will have to write a poem for a recipient, and then tag that recipient and the contest tag. These poems are meant to be varied, and there are three separate categories: Sentimental Poems, Comedic Poems, and Lewd Poems. Only users 18 and older can enter the third category. Any submissions will get bonus points if they can get the recipient of the poem to make a video reading their poem out loud. Winners of this contest will receive 500 credits, and their poem will be featured in some way on one of the 2512 Sinterklaas floats. Users can only submit to one category, so choose wisely!
(Submissions and additional details will be in the OOC information below!)
> BAKED GOODS
While there will be the usual array of food stands and varieties of alcohol available in the marketplace, the truly standout part of Sinterklaas is its baked goods. These baked goodies are not limited to the Christmas Marketplace, as numerous bakeries around the city drop their usual menus in favor of the holiday delights. These treats are very traditional in nature: pepernoot, speculaas (sometimes filled with almond paste), banketletter (filled with almond paste), and figures made out of marzipan. Some bakeries attempt to replicate the taste of chocolate and put out chocolate coins and chocolate letters, but many people in New Amsterdam agree that they just fall short.
> CHRISTMAS TUNES
Even in 2511, musicians still try to strike gold and put out a record that will be sung for years to come. Many of these musicians fall short. This year's offerings include a tasteless tune called, "The Kaiju Ruined Christmas!" Put out by Fred-Er-Reek, the New Prague native makes light of New Amsterdam's recent plights. Despite insisting that his song was written long before the November EMP, Fred-Er-Reek refuses to walk back some of the song's harshest lyrics. Fred-Er-Reek has a history of releasing songs like this, and has a following of annoying fans that attack any naysayers of his music on Cooltalk. There are a number of websites that keep up with his current celebrity beefs. Thankfully, most of the other offerings throughout the years are more pitiful and a bit bland. The good news is that Whitney Houston had put out a holiday album, and most people have defaulted to putting it on repeat.
> SINTERKLAAS VERSUS KRAMPUS
To wrap up Sinterklaas Eve, a rather dramatic show ends the day's festivities. This show gets the same attention as the parade, and it's shown in nearly every frequented business. The show itself is a rather acrobatic staged fight between Sinterklaas—who's definitely a younger, fitter version of himself compared to who was seen earlier in the day—and the evil, dastardly Krampus. While Sinterklaas is good and pure, Krampus threatens to destroy the meaning of the holiday season as everyone knows it. Casting and preparations for these shows begin every January, with the staging itself unique to the year. This year, Krampus takes on a more reptilian appearance, reminding New Amsterdam citizens of their recent struggles. The show itself is an hour-long, heavily choreographed fight. Parkour is a large part of it, as well as special effects to make them seem as if they're moving in either slow motion or very quickly. This year's fight ends with an amazing display of pyrotechnics as Sinterklaas rides his steed into Krampus and blows him up. As the show goes on, there are various different broadcasts. Some let the show play without commentary, while others have commentators who either treat this as a real bout or provide "director's commentary," giving running interviews with the show's designers as it plays.
> THE FEAST OF SINTERKLAAS
Once Sinterklaas Eve comes to an end, it's time for the big day itself. In the past, many gifts were delivered on Sinterklaas Eve. Almost all businesses close for the Feast of Sinterklaas, giving people time with their friends and family. It's time to exchange gifts, eat a lot of good food, and watch mediocre holiday movies. For anyone who's unfortunately out of a home this Sinterklaas, Joseph Lynch and Elin Zepatka have bought out numerous abandoned warehouses around the city and quickly brought them up to code. These locations will offer buffet style food and a warm place for people to sleep that night. If someone is squatting elsewhere, they're welcome here, as these buildings offer proper circulation of air, heating, and a lot of wonderful blankets.
Located under an abandoned hover-bike garage, access to the safehouse is a hatch in the floor beside a rusted set of metal shelves that used to hold tools and supplies. The immediate area is similarly abandoned: full of rundown and dilapidated warehouses and forgotten businesses, where numerous people squat in hopes of having some stability because they can't afford a place themselves. Gaby is back at the safehouse now, 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 the two newcomers to ask the people who brought them in for the beginning bits of information.
◉ The safehouse is a large space with multiple rooms for storage, with the largest of the rooms 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.
◉ There is a mini-bar set up in the kitchen. The quality of the alcohol inside is akin to what someone might get from the well, but it's well-stocked. For the season, Gaby has also set up a large metal container full of mulled wine. Anyone's free to take some home if they'd like.
◉ On The Feast of Sinterklaas, Gaby will bring in several large containers of food. There are potatoes, devilled eggs, salads, candied carrots, roasted brussels sprouts, as well as a variety of breads and baked goods from the local bakery Eerken's.
◉ Gaby will make it clear to all new arrivals that if they have any requests or queries, they should contact her or El.
◉ 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 DECEMBER 09 (AUGUST 17). 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.
Welcome to our two new characters! 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 DECEMBER 09 (AUGUST 17). At that point it's expected they'll have gotten a good idea of their new situation from their fellow characters, and will have discussed their background and job potentials with El in order for their false IDs to be set up.
In order to submit to the Sinterklaas Poetry Contest, reply to the Sinterklaas Poem Submissions thread below! To get an idea of what a Sinterklaas poem is, follow this link, this link (under point 8), or this link. Along with the IC contest, we'll be rewarding the winner for each category with 30 DW points. Submissions are due by September 15th! Thank Tona and Kira for inspiring this part of the arrival log, since they very clearly wanted to write IC poems!
There is also a Sinterklaas party that is open to everyone! That log is here. Only Faith and Silena will not be able to attend, as they won't be available just yet. Feel free to tag in and thank Jenna for putting up the traditional party log.
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 August calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month, as well as some additional notes from the mods.
We will be posting our OOC Event Planning Post for our August event on Monday, August 11. In addition, we will need to delay our setting update to the end of the month because of some complications in the mods' lives.
As a reminder, AC for new characters accepted in August 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 September 1 at 12 AM UTC and close on September 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.
› pink elephants on parade
as much as she might have liked a prime viewing space, spending the exorbitant cash for a third-floor private balcony table was not in her budget, so caroline instead has staked out a street-facing table on a small cafe's patio under a canopy, the rain splashing down on either side of their table. it's not the best space — being just behind a busy thoroughfare of a sidewalk means people often stop just in front of her table, taking advantage of the cover to get out of the steady rain for a moment or two, and it's only caroline's firm reminders that keeps them moving on. she's not giving up her space just because people don't feel like spending money on cheap faux-coffee cappuccinos. that's not fair.
so when a small girl in a bright yellow raincoat stops dead in front of caroline's table just as a particularly pretty float begins to roll up, she can't just ignore it. ]
Hey! [ nothing? seriously? what's wrong with this girl? she's just going to have to lean forward over the railing of the patio, tugging on raincoat girl's yellow sheen. ] Come on! We're trying to watch!
[ sorry for being rude, but... come on. ]
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she doesn't even notice someone shouting at her until her rain slicker is pulled at and she turns slowly. a smile automatically touches her expression but it's weak and hurt and no amount of false cheer can completely erase the sadness. ]
Oh, I'm in the way. [ she steps to the side so their view is clear again. ] Sorry.
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this time, she seems to have hit a nerve because the girl that steps aside looks like caroline's kicked her dog or something.
frowning, marcos instinctively gets to his feet, still mindful of staying out of the rain as best he can. ]
Hey, are you okay?
[ she doesn't look okay. ]
It's all right. It's just a parade. You seen one, you've seen them all.
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No, it's not--
[ she would have done much the same thing probably, she's demanded many a camper get out of the way during the fireworks so she relates on a deep personal level. the right spot is the right spot, it can't be messed with. ]
I'm alright.
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but even caroline forbes can't ignore the telltale cerulean that peeks out from underneath the canary yellow of the girl's raincoat as marcos' hand makes brief contact with exposed skin. ]
Marcos, stop — [ not out of jealousy, but concern; she pushes out a seat with her foot, gesturing very pointedly. then, to the girl: ] Come sit down.
[ if she's one of them, she will. if not... why the fuck is she glowing? ]
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Come sit down. [ he agrees with that sentiment even if he might have done it a little differently. ] It's all right. I'm Marcos. This is Caroline.
[ and now they all knew each other. ]
Sit down. It's okay.
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and she's very tired already, she could use a seat and a glass of water. ]
Okay.
[ even heavy with fatigue, silena slips around the barrier easily, agile, and slumps into the proffered seat, somehow graceful. ]
Thanks. The crowds have been hard to navigate.
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Here. [ she doesn't say take a drink, mostly because she feels like she probably doesn't need to. if this girl feels the way she had (or marcos had, back in new tokyo), her mouth is probably in desperate need of something to drink. ] What's your name?
[ she knows the question leaves little room for option, but it can't be helped. the girl knows her name, so fair is fair. ]
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[ she gulps down the water like she's a trout flopping around on a picnic table, desperate for hydration, holding the glass in both hands. it is not in any way graceful or delicate, but it is impressive.
does she even breathe? we don't know. ]
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I won't say it's nice to meet you because, well, you're here. [ and while some people chose to stay here after being here for awhile, no one chose to come here.
he leans his arms against the edge of the table, lowering his voice. ] You just got here, didn't you? An hour ago you were in one place and now you're here? They don't put that in the brochure.
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I'm supposed to ask you something.
[ you in the general sense, not marcos personally, but she doesn't think to clarify that, mind already racing ahead of her and behind her, trying to remember the phrase she is supposed to repeat. she closes her eyes, trying to remember the scene the way chiron had taught her to combat her flaky memory: rain drumming against the van, the drip drip of the iv inside the van, the hum of an engine. ask them to prove you have the glow.
her eyes open again. ]
Prove you have the glow. [ was the you directed at her? was it for her pals? silena doesn't know, repeating it verbatim and hoping they will know what to do. ]
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but maybe silena hadn't seen the glow. she doesn't really understand where this demand is coming from, but it's something she can do. a hand reaches out to her side, towards where marcos' sits atop the table; it only takes a brief moment of her fingers curling around his own before that familiar blue begins to shine under their shirts.
once she's certain silena's seen it, caroline pulls her hand back. there's a hint of disappointment in the retraction. (she'd like to keep holding his hand, but it's too risky out in public. they don't need any more trouble.) ]
What do you mean, you're supposed to ask us? Did somebody tell you that?
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he'd had the same idea as caroline but she'd had it a half second earlier and he watches her fingers curl around his. it's a familiar sight though not one of they've taken past the privacy of one of the rooms they've been in. it's short but it does the trick and he smiles a bit sadly at her when she pulls away. ]
No one gave me a message when I showed up. No one gave me anything but a headache.
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she glances down at her own chest but only sees her slicker over her white scrub top speckled with rain. she buttons up another button of her raincoat to keep it from getting wetter. ]
The lady that drove the van. She said to wait for some pals to find me and to ask them that and then to go with them. You, I guess.
[ but her expression shutters with a kind of anxious confusion. she's spent the last seven or so years at camp full time, only venturing to the city to visit her father and whenever someone decided to invade new york. she'd woken up here and hadn't questioned it because everything else seemed so much more pressing and important and she was too busy thinking about charlie and clarisse and the drakon.
now her mind spins with too many thoughts. they don't know what she was told, about them. is this a trap? the underworld? has she been lured from a recovery at camp into this strange place where she is going to be hunted for sport by the evil monsters that have chased her since she was a little girl?
is charlie here? ]
Do you know someone named Charles Beckendorf?
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No. [ and a quick scroll through the private morningstar server doesn't give note to anyone tagged as [Bad username or site: charlie @ beckendorf] either, so she figures it's a solid zero. ] Sorry.
[ the waitress that had been tending to their table comes by after a moment. if she looks surprised to see the two now accompanied by a third, perhaps it's because she'd assumed the two were on a date. now they're on a date with a wide-eyed new friend? totally legitimate.
in any case, caroline gets more water (a pitcher, this time, to make the waitress' life easier) and another faux-coffee cappuccino. hers is still full, so the extra is for silena, who could probably use something warm after being in all that wet. ]
We can take you to the safehouse after the parade. [ the parade she is now totally missing. but this is important. ] If whoever you're looking for came in with you, they'll wind up there too.
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she needs the help and he can't let his own hangups deter him from doing the job he knows he's good at. ]
You need to be there anyway since you're not going to be registered for a few days. [ registered sounded cold but it was the best way to describe things. ] You'll be comfortable though. We both stayed there for awhile. You'll have some privacy.
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silena pours herself another glass of water when the pitcher arrives, offering the waitress a smile that could end wars. or start them as her mother would prefer. she downs this glass like a parched camel as well, pouring another glass that she finally just sips at as the smile flutters away and she comes back to thinking about the state of things. ]
I have sisters, I'm not used to privacy.
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There's not much.
[ caroline wishes there was more, because people might be happier, but there's really not that much privacy to go around. a few quickly constructed room dividers, a few doors, but even the showers only have curtains and there are too many cots in the rooms to ever really feel alone.
the brothel she's been renting a room in may not be homey, but at least nobody bothers her there. it's been a decent trade-off. ]
But we have friends there. They can help you get settled in.
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doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate the touch and the quick, tiny smile he sends her way is going to have to be the only thanks he can give her right now. ]
There's a lot to know about this place. [ she wasn't firing off question after question like he'd done so she was either used to things like this or it was all gonna come out later. ] Caroline's been here longer than I have but there are some people who've been here longer than that. We can try and answer questions or you can ask them on the network. Most people are willing to help.
[ most. ]
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she wasn't as fly by the seat of her pants as percy, but then again no one is as ridiculously whimsical in battle as percy. silena's capricious nature isn't as wild as the sea. ]
What is this place?
[ first things first. ]
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[ to be fair, it's not like the morningstar network was a social media hotspot. nobody posted their food pictures, there weren't any cosmo quizzes — hell, nobody even gossiped. it was just do we kill this guy or wow, somebody else disappeared. total bummersville.
but silena asks a question, and caroline will answer it, because that's the whole point of the rescue process. she'd done it with marcos and his five thousand questions and grumpy attitude, she could definitely do it with silena's sweet, almost unnatural calm. ]
This is New Amsterdam. It's, um... [ a little mental math ] 2511, yeah. I don't know what year it was for you before, but it's basically five hundred ish years in the future for most of us.
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[ so while he isn't a fan of do we kill this guy arguments either, he still at least reads what goes up so he knows what's going on. ]
It's probably Earth but I don't know if that's been confirmed. [ it was close enough. ] The city's still kind of a wreck because an EMP bomb went off a little while ago. Caused a lot of destruction.
[ and that had been the start of his and caroline's unfortunate adventure too. ]
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a lot of information that she frankly doesn't want to absorb, closing her eyes and letting the condensation on the glass drip over fingers. her head hurts trying to rationalize the year 2511. THAT'S A FAKE ASS YEAR.
focus silena.
chiron and mr d never trained her for anything like this. is anyone trained in what to do if they suddenly wake up five hundred (and two) years in the future? did kronos win and fling them through time so he could rule over the second titanomachy without annoying demigods trying to defeat him? her head already hurts but she feels her stomach turn over as well, her own frenetic thoughts making her nauseated. ]
Why am I here?
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Well... [ now is a great time to sip at her drink. if anything, it helps her buy some time. ] We have no idea.
[ nah, she ain't got nothing. ]
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[ well.
weirdly, that makes silena feel better, settling some of her wildly racing thoughts. kronos would have taken credit for being horrible, so at least she can cross that possibility off the list. it opens up so many more possibilities, but she was never particularly fond of the science fiction books in the athena cabin, preferring the austens and brontës in the aphrodite cabin -- despite being assured they were just as romantic. it took silena months to get through the books, she'd stick with her own personal classics.
at least they're all on the same page with one thing. ]
What's the network?
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