meadowlarklogs | EVENT LOG 006

EVENT LOG 006

WHO: The Displaced
WHERE: Zerzura
WHEN: December 12 (?)
WHAT: A visit to another world.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Loss of autonomy, some psychological horror, references to self-sacrifice (and the inherent implications therein).

> EVENT LOG #006

No matter where a member of the Displaced is, the pull to another world comes at once. One moment the Displaced may be working a job, and the next moment they'll find themselves in a white-walled laboratory, fluorescent lights a constant overhead. There's no transition at all. The only indication of where they are is a metal plaque on the wall next to a door that reads: "Project Spinetail: Arrival Station." Unlike any of the doors in New Amsterdam—or anywhere else in Meadowlark's world—these doors have handles, and a physical lock.

About five minutes later, a nervous woman walks inside carrying a clipboard. She seems to hide her face behind it, and an accompanying guard looms behind her, nearly a whole foot taller. He doesn't give away much of how he feels, expression impassive. The woman begins to speak soon after:

"I'm sorry for the abrupt arrival, but getting you here was urgent. My name is Angelica Crane, and I'm the lead scientist for Project Spinetail. I know that bringing you here with no warning, against your wills is unfair, but this was the only way to speak with you—and to save you. I confess, we seek salvation for ourselves as well. Our world is new and growing; we don't know how we came to be, but we know we're in danger of disappearing. We have studied the world you've come from, and we know that it's dying. There is no helping that world—but ours has a chance to survive. We believe that you may be the key to that. We want to work with you to harness the energy inside of you and find a way to help this world. We've been watching, and we think that energy will be what saves us. Saves our city, our world, and our families.

We won't force you. We can't force you. But please, there's nothing you can do for that other world, and there is so much good you can do here. You can make this world real.

Let us show you our world. After that, we'll make our real pleas. We hope that you'll understand why we went to such extremes."

Soon after, the door opens again, and another set of guards await on the other side. Doctor Crane seems intent to lead this parade of newly re-Displaced individuals through her world, and she marches forward.

Where she leads them is through an open door, beyond which a large sight-seeing double decker bus waits. On the side, there is a splash of orange and gray, with the logo of Project Spinetail at its center. For anyone who visited the spear or the underwater facility in the Dreamscape, the walk outside is undoubtedly eerie. The outside of the building the Displaced arrived at bears many structural similarities to the underwater facility they encountered in the dreamscape. And the bird—the spinetail—is the same type as the four singing birds that were once on the spear.

As the tour proceeds, Doctor Crane will be happy to answer most of the questions headed her way.

How did they transport the Displaced over to Zerzura?
"Well, this is a bit odd, but we found that our world thrums with a quantum signature that we then identified in readings from your world. That's the blue energy, or power, that exists in each of you. We locked on to it and drew you through the barrier."

What do you mean by blue energy? Quantum signature? How do you intend to harness it?
"This is just a theory, of course, but I believe … well, we hope—that by being here, you'll end up helping strengthen our world. By adding more of that power, by having you here and utilizing your abilities, you'll be able to help fortify our world. I'm sorry that it sounds a little—ah, unscientific. Consider this a leap of faith."

If that doesn't work out, what comes next?
"Unfortunately, we can't just—we can't replicate the process here to put you back. It was a one way trip. We hope you can understand the need to get you out of there."

So—what happens next with us?
"We hope you'll make your home here. This is truly a wonderful world—you'll see."

And how do you know that world is dying?
"We get—sometimes the lines between that world and ours … blur? Not as if they are one and the same. Don't misunderstand me! It's—we get readings. Something happened there, very recently. It's … accelerated. We saved who we can."

And what about Governor Henries? He's mentioned time and time again in this tour. Can we meet with him?
"That's—Governor Henries is a private man. And he's often … he has a lab, one that even we don't know the location of. He gets up to his work alone, and demands a great deal of privacy. So … you see—he'll be rather busy. Not with you all. That's … he's leaving that to us. It's just—you see—" Doctor Crane doesn't finish her thought, flushed and awkward. She turns and draws everyone into their next location, speaking loudly to ensure no one can follow up at the moment.

There are sure to be other questions. Any questions about the links between this world and the dreamscape—even if not put in that context—will be met with a blank stare. Clearly, Project Spinetail is not an underwater facility, and no, none of their scientists have recently met an untimely death! There aren't any ghosts—despite the … unique nature of all of this, there isn't anything supernatural going on, at least as far as any of the scientists can tell. Project Spinetail is a scientific institution working for the people of Zerzura! But what day is it? Well, they haven't worked out a calendar yet. Everything is evolving. Everything!

Zerzura itself is a wonder: every building is made out of limestone, with a cross of modern and Greco-Roman architecture. The buildings are never too tall, never too gaudy, and meant to be welcoming. Every place in Zerzura has an open door policy, inviting someone inside at any hour. The people of this world have a universal basic income, and when that's not enough, no-one is stingy about extending credit, or strict about collecting on it.

Despite the weird nature of Zerzura—in many ways, it does seem to be a very, very new world—there are families with multiple children, and the people here thrive in idyllic splendor. Though there is a governor, he doesn't seem to be particularly involved in governing the world beneath his purview. There is no signage with curfews or laws, and though there is a citywide guard, they have limited facilities to keep someone in holding.

Zerzura is a perfect world—an oasis, one that is small in stature but large in ambition. Of course, is it that bold of an ambition if someone simply wants to live?

> WEEK ONE

Once the tour is done, each of the Displaced will be set up with their very own basic universal income, as well as a spot in a dormitory that's connected to Project Spinetail's facilities. They're given free reign over Zerzura, allowed to explore every inch that they may like. The dormitories themselves are like little apartments, with a small kitchenette and bathroom connected to each room. No one is expected to share their room, though there are some that are conjoined for anyone who might be seeking a more intimate experience with a friend. To get these rooms, they need only ask. The beds in each room are full sized beds, giving everyone a little more room to be comfortable.

With the rooms divided among the Displaced, it's time to settle in to Zerzura. After all, as Doctor Crane insisted, there's no way out.

> WORKING IN ZERZURA

Work in Zerzura is done by committee. While there are some people who maintain businesses, they're given leave to take a break when needed. Some people prefer manual labor: construction, planting crops, and even picking up around the city. Others like to run businesses and manage the people under them. There is a good mix of everything that someone might want in Zerzura: noodle shops, plenty of frozen yogurt places (all vegan, of course), and pizza (no one would ever guess that the cheese isn't real cheese). On top of that, anyone looking to buff up their wardrobe will find many of the clothing stores overtly welcoming. "Credit" won't even be mentioned. Come right in and spruce up your wardrobe. Unlike the cyberpunk attire in New Amsterdam, clothing here tends toward bright colors and styles are as widely varied as the number of shops, though materials and cuts tend toward natural and simple.

> PRAISE IN ZERZURA

Before the assimilation truly begins, the people of Zerzura will be all too happy to help the Displaced adjust. Need directions somewhere? Hoping to learn more about Governor Henries? They'll be up for talking about anything. Yes, Governor Henries is a bit … strange, and even rumored to be unethical with his experiments—but that's all conceptual! He doesn't hurt anyone. So, maybe unethical is the wrong word? The only group they'll be less keen to talk about is Nautilus.

> CAUSING PROBLEMS IN ZERZURA

There was always a risk in bringing over a handful of unknown people to Zerzura. However, it doesn't seem as if there is any great punishment in mind for anyone who tries to cause problems. Any property damage—ranging from graffiti to destroying large swathes of grass in public areas—will lead to an arrest. Being arrested here doesn't mean much. No one has a record. They're simply locked away for an overnight and then let go. There's a warning that they'll be locked away for longer. The beds in the jailing unit are comfortable, and the food is great.

> INVESTIGATING PROJECT SPINETAIL

Naturally, being pulled into Zerzura is an unsettling experience, and it makes sense that a good number of savvy Displaced will want to know more about the group that's brought them in. While Doctor Crane will be keen to answer questions early on, being pestered for them will make her irritable and uncomfortable. The people of Zerzura aren't this cynical—there will be the sense that she's unaccustomed to not being taken at her word. Telepathically—in other words, if anyone gets a mental read on her with Doctor Strange's assistance—she may be talking herself into patience, telling herself that it makes sense that they wouldn't trust her. The thing is: she is telling the truth. The only uncertainty will link back to an image of a spear: flickering in and out of existence in an underground part of Zerzura. No one from Project Spinetail will be volunteering information about the spear, or even admitting it exists.

It seems that this spear is the only contradiction to Spinetail's stories. Crane will always be happy to meet with any of the Displaced, and anyone working around her will be eager to answer questions. It seems that Governor Henries is out of reach, which is an oddity in and of itself. They won't be eager—or able—to put anyone in touch with him.

What they'll learn is that the appearance of the spear was the tipping point. It's what drove the scientists to bring over the Displaced. Everything about the spear's location seems to be degrading. A number of scientists have been hurt by the spear while reporting findings, so it's kept hidden away.

The odd thing about the spear is that none of the scientists will be able to pinpoint its location. They know it exists, but almost as if it were a myth, and it seems as if it's never a constant in Zerzura.

Whether it makes sense or not, Project Spinetail seems to be keen to tell the truth. Obscuring the existence of the spear seems to be done for the safety of all Zerzurans—both new and old.

> NAUTILUS: FIRST CONTACT

While no one at Project Spinetail will be keen to point the Displaced toward the rebel organization, Nautilus will make themselves known. Sometimes this will come as a symbol graffitied on a wall. Other times, they'll be working at a business, and keen to reach out and ask for a Displaced to meet up with them later. Their aims and goals are simple: they want to preserve the world where the Blue God came from, and that means that Zerzura needs to die.

However, the deeply self-sacrificing and genocidal tendencies of Nautilus will seem contradictory to their reverence for their god. While the Blue God seems to lord over the sky and water, believing in the mercurial and constantly changing nature of life, Nautilus pushes for self-sacrifice and death. They know that many people will die, but they hold strong to the belief that Zerzura is an unnatural world that needs to be gone so that the world that came before it can survive.

Early on, Nautilus won't be keen to tell the Displaced any of their plans. But for those who pry deeper, they will be able to find some answers. Nautilus aims to seek out four critical points within the design of Zerzura, but they haven't been able to identify them yet. These four points won't be related to the spear, and if asked about that spear, they will respond with confusion and uncertainty. They believe that the Displaced will be able to help them identify the four points, but they don't yet know how to do that.

As for why they know that Zerzura is a false world, they seem to simply know. Their god is an expansive power, and not one that would be confined to such a limited space. In addition, it seems that they have gained access to some contradictory materials from Project Spinetail. A small number of people from Nautilus will be former Spinetail scientists who went on to reject their aims. While Spinetail has research that they believe supports their aims and theory, Nautilus will have seen the contradiction to that, and will believe that the expansion of Zerzura directly correlates with the rapid degradation of the world on the "other side." Whether this research confirms what they know or was sought out to do that, they seem justified in what they believe.

For some, the assimilation to being a part of Zerzura will start in this first week. People may fade in and out of their new versions of their identities, while others will slide into that life and never return. Either way, it doesn't seem as if there is any external trigger to this assimilation.

> WEEKS TWO AND THREE

The odd thing about Zerzura is that little changes from week to week, at least on the surface. People swap jobs and stories, living their perfect lives. Some of the people of Zerzura eagerly welcome the Displaced into their homes, and anyone who's beginning to assimilate will find that these people treat their neighbors the same way. In time, there will be blurred lines between the new arrivals—the Displaced—and the Displaced who have adapted. As the story evolves, Project Spinetail's motivations will evolve with it. The new story will be that they had some people imbued with the quantum signature that is tied to the world of Zerzura, and they became aware of some people on the other side. Using what they knew about their own citizens, they adapted and brought over those new people.

Once the assimilations begin to settle in, it seems as if it's unlikely that Project Spinetail's story will change on this front.

> INCONSISTENT ASSIMILATION

Little about the adaptation of the Displaced to this world is tidy, but one thing is clear: no one—neither Spinetail nor Nautilus—will be aware that they were going to change and become one with their surroundings and their world. On the contrary, they will find it strange that some of the Displaced may insist that their friend or loved one came over with them just a week or two prior. They understand that the quantum signature links them up, but they won't be able to offer an explanation for this evolution.

Further prying won't provide a more satisfactory answer on this front. Whatever is causing the Displaced to adapt and be absorbed into the ecosystem of Zerzura, it doesn't appear to be a part of anyone's plans.

> COMMUNITY MEETINGS

Life will proceed as usual in Zerzura. Hydroponic farmers come together once a week to discuss the future of agriculture in Zerzura, as well as go out and test the soil for nutrients to see if they may be able to expand their reach. When it's suggested that some of the changes in the Displaced may be because of the nutrients in Zerzura, they'll be able to bring their research to Project Spinetail and get access to state of the art facilities to find out if there is anything to support this suspicion.

Otherwise, there are classes at Zerzura College that anyone can attend to expand their knowledge. There is a biweekly meeting at Dante Sparda's music shop that anyone can attend, learning as much about the guitar riffs from other worlds as possible. It seems as if there is some bleedover of other cultures—whether they were there before the Displaced arrived is hard to say, as it seems to be assumed they were there the entire time.

> FURTHER INVESTIGATION OF SPINETAIL

Anyone who's hoping to get more access to Project Spinetail will be able to use the excuse of the community findings around agriculture, or even the work of Gaby Teller-Parker to get inside. Once they're in there, they'll be able to sneak around and peer through windows, trying to find out whatever information they can. They'll be able to find physical findings of the research: that Zerzura is expanding a few inches every day, with the rate of growth increasing once they brought over the Displaced. They'll be able to track the degradation of the world they came from, as well as the sudden uptick of indications that that world is dying. The quantum signature is inconsistent there. The atmosphere is rapidly getting worse, making it so that that Earth won't be able to sustain human life. Humans won't be able to breathe without assistance on the surface, and it appears that the colonies have limited capabilities of managing human life.

As for the spear that came up in the minds of the scientists in week one, they'll have some collected findings on it. The same devolution of the world that the Displaced came from will be present in the spear: a splintering of readings, always inconsistent and unknown. By the end of week three, Doctor Crane will be leading a handful of scientists to a series of three different sites, hoping to identify where the spear is likely to turn up. Using readings gathered from before, they will be trying to investigate when and how the spear will appear, and how to try to keep it in one place.

The entourage on these excursions always includes the Myceneans, who are there to protect the scientists. Any Displaced who hope to tag along will be encouraged to not do that—for their own safety!

> WORLD ADAPTATIONS

As the Displaced settle in and either become consumed by their surroundings or find themselves able to reject what's going on, the world will adapt to their existence. If someone read a book as a child and it wasn't there on week one, they'll be able to find it by week three. Whitney Houston, Black Sabbath, and The Who will be on regular rotation once someone thinks about how much they miss these old artists, and the people of Zerzura won't be able to grasp what's happened.

Pop culture will be a mish-mash of things that exist in various Displaced's worlds. Spider-Man's Christmas album will be available, despite the fact that Christmas doesn't exist. Many of the arcade games from Eos will pop up in various businesses, giving a chance for someone to kill time on them while they wait for their meal to arrive. There will be long pseudo-histories about famous people from the Displaced's worlds, but they'll all be—quite oddly—treated as fiction.

Finally, the internet won't be as expansive as it is today, and many of the searches won't necessarily come up with what people know to be true. Ozzy Osborne, for instance, is a famous Zerzuran citizen in all black who did some very strange things with the Spinetail mascot that earned him infamy. And if anyone searches for Governor Henries, they'll get a biography that describes his long service as a citizen of Zerzura, along with a series of degrees that he (somehow) received from Zerzura College. Strangely, there won't be a picture of the man.

> WHERE IS GOVERNOR HENRIES?

Given his repeated involvement in every aspect of Project Spinetail—and Zerzura itself—it seems odd that Governor Henries would be out of reach. Anyone who's trying to find him will come up empty. None of the scientists at Project Spinetail seem to know where he is, and they've never been in his lab themselves. If anyone pries further—even in their minds—they won't be able to find more satisfactory answers. Just as his website biography lacks a clear image, none of them will seem to know what Governor Henries looks like.

They will have mental descriptions of the man: he's eccentric and loves to talk a lot, and seems to find Nautilus' efforts to be rather hilarious. Some of them think he might be trying to counteract Nautilus' efforts, but it doesn't seem to strike anyone as odd that he wouldn't do it with Project Spinetail.

In every way, Henries is illusive. In fact, some might even begin to wonder if the man is even real.

> MORE ON NAUTILUS

During this time, more and more people are likely to reach out to Nautilus to join their efforts. Some members of Nautilus will begin to bring the Displaced into their plans, but they won't tell them how they intend to pull it off. On the contrary, it seems as if they're afraid that they might be stopped. If asked why they think this could occur, Nautilus' members won't be able to give a clear answer. It all boils down to the importance of saving the world outside, and they always diminish the importance of the people within Zerzura. That includes themselves. They treat themselves as if they're fabrications of people, but there is no basis for or clear and sustained root to this belief.

By midway through week two, Nautilus will eagerly ally with anyone who wants to help them find the four points to end Zerzura. Since they've had little luck themselves, they realize they need the Displaced to help find these points, as being close to them will make their chests glow blue. It doesn't matter if the Displaced individual has been assimilated or not: their chest will respond the same way. By accessing these points, they believe that they'll be able to detonate explosives that will bring down Zerzura, causing it to collapse in on itself. Finding these locations won't be easy, but anyone who's working with Nautilus will find themselves hitting the pavement to locate them.

For as fatalistic as Nautilus is, they're also complete fanatics for their god. If anyone goes to them for answers about the spear, about the power they've been given, or even about the odd blue energy, they'll be ready to launch into how the Displaced happen to be the Blue God's chosen ones. Again, some of this rant and ramble may not make sense, and it will seem as if they are blinded: believing that the Blue God is a figure of the world outside whose resources are being stretched thin and need to be returned to the world outside. In conjunction, the Displaced are simply its avatars in improving the world that the Blue God helped create. Zerzura is not and cannot be that world.

Anyone who supports Nautilus but points out the flaws in the fantasy will, again, find that Nautilus is just as much a result of this world. They're the cynics meant to poke holes in the idyllic life, but it's as if they were shaped from an incomplete cloth.

Anyone who supports Nautilus but rejects the god will be met with irrational anger. If anyone pushes this issue, they'll find themselves to be the enemy of Nautilus. No one can support Nautilus but reject their god. It seems as if in their minds, it is impossible to believe in what Nautilus hopes to accomplish, yet act as if the god they support and revere is meaningless.

By the end of week three, members of Nautilus will promise that the Displaced—even those who reject the god who favors them—won't die if Zerzura does. How they know this won't be clear—and it may turn out that by ending Zerzura, the Displaced may very well be ending themselves. Also by the end of week three, they will have dismissed numerous locations as part of the four, and will begin to narrow in on where they need to be by the end of the month.

> RELEASED FROM A FANTASY

As people slip into their fantasies, there will come the risk of them being unable to return. Anyone who's hoping to bring a friend to their senses and bring them out of the fantasy that's stolen them away may be inclined to reach back into their memories to think of previous problems like this, or they may simply try to grab their friend's hand to try to shake them out of it. Whatever it is, the Displaced will be able to be saved. The task to do that is simple, as least for now: whenever they hold on to their friend, they will see that their chest seems to "open up," offering forth an object to withdraw. Once they pull it out, they can hold on to it and get a sense of their friend's essence, borrow their power, or eventually just hand it over (because that object seems to be their lost friend).

Someone can only be pulled out of their fantasy once—once they're free, they're free.

> WEEK FOUR

By the time the final week of the month rolls around, many people will fight to maintain their fantasies, rejecting any notion of freeing them, while others will be angry that this world absorbed them and stole away their autonomy. Why is it that this was able to happen? No matter where the Displaced look, it will seem as if there is no immediate answer available to them.

Either way, this is the week in which some decisions will have to be made. Should Zerzura survive? Should it end? Or should everything equalize, with everyone given a shot to live on? One of three paths remain for all of the Displaced, and it's up to them to decide.

> A: NAUTILUS: ENDING ZERZURA

With the help of the Displaced, Nautilus will eventually locate the four positions within the city that will end Zerzura's existence. Each of these locations is underground, needing to be reached through the sewage system. Thankfully, much like everything else in Zerzura, it doesn't smell as bad as it possibly could down there.

Each of these locations will be neatly located at four equidistant points in Zerzura, with the spear itself located at the center of them. The way the points look is strange. Reality around them is shifting, evolving, moreso when any of the Displaced are present. The firepower that's meant to destroy these points is massive, as Nautilus doesn't want to risk their plan falling through.

At the entrance for each of these points, Nautilus will ask that the Displaced help stand guard. They're certain that Spinetail and the Myceneans will find them, and they want to be sure that they won't be able to stop their plans. Of course, those very same Displaced could be having second thoughts … Either way, Nautilus seems certain that the Myceneans won't try to hurt the Displaced, so they're there for more than one reason.

> B: PROJECT SPINETAIL: SAVING ONLY ZERZURA

As time passes, Spinetail will begin to track Nautilus' movement, paranoid that too many of the Displaced will wish to follow their plan. The scientists at Spinetail don't believe in a third option. Too grounded in what they believe to be true, it seems as if they reject anything that otherwise presents itself to the world. They believe that the Displaced need to live here and be happy, and will ignore any contradictions to the contrary.

In order for them to carry out their plan, they will need to completely stop Nautilus, and find a way to prevent them from destroying the four points. To do this, they will need at least four Displaced assisting them to maintain the fantasy. They'll need to get in to the four points with the Myceneans, take down the Displaced and Nautilus there, and connect with the fragile point in reality. By interacting with it and asking it to close, they will take away one of the unstable points of Zerzura, and will be choosing to let go of all life on the other side.

No Displaced will be able to close more than one point. When they interact with the fragile point, they will seem to exist in a space between Zerzura and reality. They'll see a large piece of technology, clearly native to the world of 2511. Its shape is hard to make out, as if fatigue obscures it, but as it stabs downward, it seems to be spear-like in nature. The sensation of this technology is painful: and they feel this pain all at once, splintering them in two—and then into thousands upon thousands of pieces. They'll see glimmers of colors in the corner of their eyes that will then fade into nothing. And in that moment, they'll feel a small part of New Amsterdam's world break, and they'll be filled with a flood of blinding grief.

They won't be able to do this accidentally. They will need to make a conscious choice in the process, knowing that their decision at this point will allow billions of people—and the world under their feet—to die.

> C: LOCATING THE SPEAR: THE TRUST FALL

At the heart of everything that's been inconsistent or unknown about Zezura has been a spear. The Spinetail scientists were thinking about it, and some people knew to seek it out, recalling that it had been a centerpiece of the facility from the dreamscape. Its location was unknown, only taking shape as the Displaced managed to help Nautilus find the four locations that would end Zerzura completely. Equidistant from all four points, the spear would take shape above ground, near the center of Zerzura itself.

Anyone from Zerzura won't be able to interact with the spear without feeling themselves fraying at the seams. Only the Displaced—either back to their normal identities, or subsumed by the fantasy of Zerzura—will be able to get close to the spear. In order to protect Zerzuran citizens—and perhaps the spear itself—Spinetail asks that the Myceneans stand guard around the spear. In order to get to it, the Displaced will either have to be very convincing, or up for a fight. Or both—depending on how they go about it.

Once they're within a ten foot radius of the spear, each of the Displaced will be hit with a feeling of grief, betrayal, and sadness. They'll feel as if they're both underwater and not, but easily able to breathe. As they draw closer, they'll have a sense of knowing: knowing that this spear is the source of the pain behind this world and all of its grief, and that Zerzura itself was never meant to exist. But it does exist. The people here have the potential of being real, of being brought to life. No matter the reasons for the conflict between Spinetail and Nautilus, it seems as if that conflict was the source of pain in some way. Someone's pain, at some time, even if it feels nebulous, divided, unclear.

The next step won't be unclear, however. As they get closer, they'll get an image of three individuals trusting the spear and what it offers them: Rey, Kylo Ren, and Cain. Their clear thoughts and hope as they remove the spear will show them the way. But they need to trust and hope; they need to wish to see these two worlds to a better place.

In doing so, any Displaced will know they could die. That they will die. But it could lead to something better, something more whole. It could—should, will—be healing. They just need to trust: trust themselves, trust those who did a similar act before, and give themselves away.

> 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. Any additional questions about the log will be taken below, as we want to keep that in one place, and we used the planning post quite heavily in developing the log itself!

The outcome for this event will depend on character decisions made as the event proceeds. In order to let us know which outcome your character will ultimately choose, reply to the OUTCOMES CHOICE thread below. You will have until SEPTEMBER 7 to reply. Each character gets to have a unique outcome.

In order to play out movement toward these outcomes, players can begin as soon as they want. They can thread out working to help Nautilus find the four points, or even seeking out more information about the spear. For anyone working in conflict for options A and B, we recommend planning anything out together, but characters pursuing and ultimately ending up on option C can end up there however they might like. In addition, characters can take option C even if it isn't the majority outcome.

Please do not begin to thread out any aftermath until September 8th, which is when we will put up the aftermath log and OOC post.

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 saving someone from their fantasy by removing an object or by being saved. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by SEPTEMBER 23 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

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

> NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. lead me through the light

Is this how it’s going to be now? Every time OA starts to find her footing again, every time she starts to grasp at the edges of… of everything, of all of it, of her place in the unfolding of all things, is it going to be pulled unceremoniously away again?

She drifts through that first day in a strange haze, numbness gnawing down and blunting the sharp edges of a desperate frustration. It keeps her calm enough through the orientation process, watchful but otherwise impassive. It’s once she’s been left alone in her dormitory for the first time that it all really washes over her. The silence, the solitude. It’s a comfortable place, but that’s almost worse, because she’s in it alone.

The sharp-edged polygon of light just visible through the door, slightly ajar, loses coherence as tears well up in her eyes. She succumbs to it, sinking to sit at the edge of the bed; there’s no fighting anymore: for the first time since being abruptly ripped from the Earth she once knew, OA allows herself unrestrainedly to weep.

ii. pull me from the water

Nina Azarova has had unusual dreams of late. They carry unusual potential, hint at strange portents; she’s never been one to take these things lightly. The mind works over what it knows in what ways it can: thought is not always conscious and understanding is not always plain. Perhaps there’s no such thing as prophecy – perhaps the question of its existence isn’t even relevant – but she trusts that the dreams are the language her psyche uses to tell her about herself. It doesn’t make her special: this is true of everyone. That certainty has carried her far, and it makes it all the more remarkable that she should find herself now unsettled.

She rises from her bed and dresses quickly, gathering up a notebook and pen before she slips out into the early morning. Nina needs space, open air; a place to sit and think that isn’t the suddenly oppressive stillness of her own room. She cards her fingers through her hair as she emerges into the dawn light, ensuring distractedly that it’s all in order. In spite of her preoccupation she manages warm smiles for passers-by.

The dreams mean something. She can feel it, even now, fully awake. They feel strange, almost like memory, like something in her trying to get out.

There’s an urgency to Nina’s movements as she finds a seat on a park bench, opening her notebook on her lap and uncapping the pen. A nosy passer-by isn’t necessarily likely to find much of use in her initial notes, should they stop to read them:

There is glass tank separated into five segments. I am standing outside of it in a darkened room. The tank is filled with water, which is suffused by a gentle glow whose origin I cannot find. Things are moving through the water; I reach out to touch the glass, to clear away condensation so that I can see inside. As soon as my fingers make contact, suddenly I am the thing in the water, and I am drowning. Through the glass where once I stood, there is now the shape of a man watching me.

the predator dream

the underworld instinct, she-who-knows, life/death/life?

I did not see any others but I knew they were there!

Of greater interest, however, are the things she begins to sketch below and betwixt the notes as they come to her. Strange shapes, strange creatures for a world without animals: Nina Azarova is, clumsily but unmistakably, drawing fish.

She glances up abruptly, catching the gaze of another early-morning wanderer and offering a small, uncharacteristically sheepish smile.

iii. hold my hand as something turns to me, turns me into you

Whether through the influence of the dreams or otherwise, Nina finds herself out and about even more than her perceived usual over the course of the week. Wherever they find her – sat at a terrace table in a cafe, watching the world go by with ever-present notebook in hand, poring over the goods on offer in a clothing store, leaning against a railing on a smoke break with her face upturned to the sun, hard at work in the library, or perhaps most surprisingly of all, out of an evening to drink and dance – those among the displaced who might recognise her will no doubt register the change immediately: unlike the OA, Nina Azarova is not afraid. Gone are the caution and the wariness; her warmth is unrestrained now. No distance save that of gentle distraction, no guile.

She even looks different, not just in the greater ease of her posture and confidence in her movements through the world but also in the fact that she seems to take greater pains in her appearance – not a great deal, but anything is more than none at all. Her clothing, while still simple, leans slightly further towards adornment as opposed to her usual, strictly practical wont.

To those who know her from her place in this world, from the photographs of the author gracing any of the modest handful of books she’s written perhaps, this openness and easy graciousness will not seem new at all. Her audience is fairly limited – her books might not be hefty tomes, but not everyone can be expected to take a great interest in her densely-penned musings on the psyche – meandering but thoughtful discussions of archetypes, symbology, the collective unconscious, dreams.

iv. wildcard

(( Surprise me, or hit me up via pm or at

v__ for something tailor-made! Also, here’s a link to my plotting comment for reference. Also, I’m fine with brackets if that’s your preferred method of playing, just respond as you like and I will happily follow your lead. ))

In a way, its sympathetic emotion that draws Sniper to the OA's room. Frustration and disorientation have them roaming the halls, barred from going on a quiet run by the Displaced's celebrity status. Never have they felt so caged and powerless. It wasn't like they were close to cracking the mystery of the Displaced in New Amsterdam, but at least in the city there were familiar knots to untangle: motive and means. Figuring out human minds wasn't hard. It was just a matter of tracing the trail of influence back to whoever was responsible.

Zerzura was not a problem Sniper knew how to fix.

It felt like a taunt. Like any minute they could expect to see Apollo Mojave's ghost, just like poor mad Mycroft, asking the question that branded them all. Would you kill this world to save a better one?

Sniper's answer had never, would never change, but the question kept shifting around them. Zerzura was unquestionably a brighter, better world than the one they had left, so much that Sniper's chest ached to look at it. The scientists' predictions about the other world's fate weren't surprising at all. But it didn't matter. New Amsterdam had answers, a way home. Unless Zerzura could offer the same, Sniper could not waste any time on it.

Sniper can't identify the person crying, but they know what to do with an upset person, and the prospect of a concrete task draws them. Once they see OA, the pretense of playing at cheer drops out of them. Closing the door they move to sit beside her. The physical motions of comforting someone come easy to Sniper, but they remember she doesn't like being touched, and so they simply sit, close, their weight barely denting the bedding.

Edited 2019-08-28 04:19 (UTC)

OA starts at the click of the door, raising her gaze and swiping at her eyes, the beginnings of a forced smile finding its way onto her face. It falters immediately once she recognises who has found her; the force of the guilty relief that floods through her upon seeing Sniper tears down those foundational defenses once more. It hurts. It hurts that they've been so close, shared portions of their minds directly, while she and Homer lived seven years next to one another, sharing the same room and breathing the same air, and have never even touched.

This isn't Sniper's fault. At the moment, though, it's overwhelming. OA buries her face in her hands with a soft, strained, "Oh God."

The sobs are necessary. They scour her clean. None of this is anything to be ashamed of, she'd just never meant this to be anybody else's burden to bear. It doesn't make this any harder to live through, quite the opposite, though Sniper's gentle weight alongside her brushes against already raw heartstrings.

She shudders through it, rocking herself gently, dredging up the worst. Better now than later. This place, the place before, the stretch of time between now and the day she'd lay in the dirt at the side of that unknown road with a knife pressed against her throat. The longer span of years before that, living in the copper seam. Her strange families, all of them. Nancy and Abel, who she resented and loved in equal measure. The distant, flickering memory of her own innocence. All gone away.

It seems to go on for ages, though in reality it can't take more than a few minutes for the worst of it to pass. In silence, OA lowers her hands from her tear-streaked face and pushes herself to her feet with a sigh in pursuit of something with which to blow her nose, some cold water to splash on her face.

Those exercises completed, she makes her way back. She doesn't look at Sniper directly as she goes, but there's a gentle tilt to her head, a gentle list in their direction as though to acknowledge the gravity of what they've just shared. She lowers herself back to her previous perch and allows herself to fall back onto the mattress, legs still hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Ugh." OA presses her fingertips against her eyes for a moment, and as her hands fall away again she turns her head to look directly at Sniper for the first time, at first assessing and then solemn. "Thank you."

A pause, a bit grim; her brow furrows in pain and she looks back up at the ceiling, releasing a soft but emphatic summation of the situation -- all of it, all of this: "Fuck."

"Fuck." Sniper agrees, and flops back beside her. They're not making any particular effort not to cry. Nor are they making any effort to, though it would only take a small shift of their focus. Even just thinking too deeply about the last time they had sobbed with as much anguish as OA, when Mycroft's book had appeared out of their chest and Sniper had read it without stopping—the story of Sniper's life, their duty, the world they loved that could be ending already, written by the only other person who had given as much as Sniper to see the world they both loved flourish. A story that would go uncompleted as long as Sniper was trapped here. But the disorienting fog of half-formed plans keeps their thoughts going in meandering circles.

Sniper doesn't have any plans or assurances to offer at the moment, only distraction in the form of abstract theological discussion. Not Sniper's hobby, but OA would probably like it, and they needed additional perspective.

"Do you think your god punishes people?"

The question is an even more complicated one than it might initially seem. OA turns her head to look at Sniper where they lay alongside her, gaze searching, brow gently furrowed in thought -- an expression lent a faintly morose cast by the residual wetness of her eyes, by the way her eyelashes still cling together with tears.

I don't know that I have a god isn't a useful response, though it's the one that comes first to mind. Really, it's just semantics: the word is a useful enough shorthand for all the things of which OA is certain.

"I think it feels that way sometimes," she says finally, characteristically frank. "I've spent a lot of time wondering what I did to deserve what happened to me. Maybe I wasn't a good enough daughter. Maybe I didn't... love big enough or try hard enough or learn the things I was meant to learn until they had to be forced upon me. Maybe I had too many bad thoughts."

A host of things, a temporal mishmash. Some holdovers from the child who'd been plunged into the waters and sent away to America, who'd loved her adopted family only guiltily, half-certain it was a betrayal. Some from the young woman who'd walked into her cage, blind but by some measures willing. Others still from the creature who'd been dragged out and left by the roadside to die, but hadn't, not even at the bridge. An array of selves, stretching through the fourth dimension, forward and back through time. She can almost see them.

"I think... I think it's more complicated than that. I think there are places we're meant to be and things we're meant to learn, but for us, to develop us. Everything else is..." She shakes her head; there's a rustle of bedsheets as she shrugs her shoulders.

"I don't know. There's a pattern, I don't know if that means there's a plan."

Sniper does not turn to meet her gaze yet. Eyes on the ceiling their expression is relaxed, blank. No matter how much evidence stacked up, Sniper could not really that some god wanted them to learn a lesson. Jehovah might think he was in some kind of grand dialog with the god of Sniper's world, but that sort of thing didn't make sense for someone like Sniper. Listening to OA's list of possible faults is strangely comforting: there was no doubt about Sniper's effort or how comprehensively they had given themselves to others. Even Jehovah agreed that Sniper was worthy of killing him, and what right did any god have to tell Jehovah he was wrong?

There is one point that lingers. If she's right, then what is it they're supposed to learn? They had strove all their life to be weapon of clean, unambiguous purpose, without doubt, without bitterness. Punishment they could rationalize; they could name reasons why even a god might stoop to punishing them. But how could a god ask them to change now, when they had made every decision up to this point knowing where it would lead? What veil could possibly be ripped from their eyes, and what would happen to the person they were now, the person who owed it to their world and all the people they loved to carry through their choices to the end?

Finally, they turn to look over at OA. Without emotion to distract, the perfect symmetry of their features looks unearthly.

"What did you have to learn?"

Sniper's stillness, their blankness is arresting. OA pauses on it, hooked also on the end of the question. For her own part, she reserves blankness for self-defence, saves it for people she wants far from her, and Sniper isn't one of those. So she shifts, unselfconscious: a little tug at one corner of her mouth which indicates she's thinking, subtle shifts of her brows -- fractionally lower on a thought that raises further questions, slackening with clarity, finally knitting together when she hits upon an answer that hurts.

What did she have to learn? It's a long list, but maybe it can be abridged thusly: "How to die."

Another flicker of hurt, a microexpression gone almost as soon as it appears. "How to see, so I could walk into it with my eyes open. Then how to do the same with life."

Which is backwards, isn't it? Ω to Α. But maybe that's the point; it's all spiraling back into itself, a trans-dimensional tangle. OA does a lot of things the wrong way round, anyway. This too: it occurs to her only belatedly that this should probably be strange, reclining on a bed with a relative stranger. Implications could be drawn, if she chose. She's certainly not innocent of those implications. Presumably Sniper isn't either. To follow through and draw them, though, would feel... small.

"I'm not done learning. Maybe someday I will be, but... I don't think so. I don't think the invisible self always grows in the same way and at the same pace as the visible one." There's a beat, a moment of contemplative stillness. "Do you think there's a lesson in this? Someone else told me she'd learned perspective. Humility. I wonder if we aren't all here to find each other."

Laying barely inches apart, watching every emotion play out on her face, there is the sense of a barrier, a separateness. It's not a new feeling to Sniper: they had always been a thing apart, and they had always sought to bridge that, to make themself into an understandable object. It was part of their duty to not lose touch with the humanity they were charged with protecting. It was what made the empathy bond so enticing: easy and unfiltered access to the emotions Sniper had had to study from the outside. And in OA's case, or Loki's... Maybe something entirely different. Something new and strange, like Sniper themself. It's tempting to reach out now and fill themself with something else and drown out everything else, but they're conscious of manners.

Sniper and the OA were different kinds of things. An angel, a weapon. Sniper could empathize but they had left all that behind a long, long time ago. From the first time they had taken a life they knew they were choosing their own death: and what a death it would be, with any luck. Broken at the hands of Achilles to live forever without the burden of consciousness, an unfading symbol of the world they loved and died to protect. No, they could not be here to learn something, to find anyone. Their life and their death were waiting for them.

"If there is, I think it's pretty rude of some god or whatever to presume what a human should learn. Or an angel," They add for OA. The confidence with which they speak brings animation back to their features. "We can make our own choices. We don't need a pattern to help us choose to be better."

Not easily; never easily. Sniper knew intimately what a slow, crawling effort it was to change, to break free of pattern or destiny or god or whatever. The work of their bash' had kept mankind's constant specter, war, at bay for 400 years. A miracle of human effort. Even still the miracle could be undone with the coming conflict, and that's why Sniper had to return regardless of cost: so that no matter the result of the war between Sniper's side and Jehovah's, the precious, inching progress humanity had made toward breaking free of of their own bloody nature could be protected.

Edited 2019-08-29 15:45 (UTC)

The OA / Nina Azarova (AU) | OTA

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For M le Dr Étrange

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ii.

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For Wei Wuxian

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