EVENT #006 AFTERMATH LOG

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: December 19th to the end of the month.
WHAT: Event aftermath, Winter Solstice, Christmas.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Character death, self-sacrifice, drug use. Further notes at end of log.

> EVENT #006 AFTERMATH LOG

Zerzura's demise is a very near miss. Three out of four of the bombs detonate, with numerous Mycenaean guards' lives taken as a result of the assault. It's probable—even likely—that numerous Displaced were injured as a result of this attack. Just as the last bomb seemed likely to go off, everything stopped. As in: the scene ended, shifting, putting all of the Displaced to sleep. Zerzura won't end. Or will it?

The return from Zerzura will feel like waking up from a long nap. Instead of anyone waking up in their beds, they will find themselves on the ground beside the man-made river that runs down the center of New Amsterdam. The ground beneath them will be moist with recent rainfall. Anyone who was still in the throes of a fantasy and believing themselves to be a part of Zerzura will find themselves tossed out of that existence. Anyone who died at the precipice of the spear will still recall their actions vividly: their mind and body hitting a point in which it was finite, slipping away. There may be some room for doubt regarding their deaths. After all, they're very much alive now.

There are two constants among the Displaced when they observe themselves and others: that all of their chests are glowing with that familiar blue glow, and they'll all experience a feeling of serenity. This feeling won't come from any of the Displaced themselves. Much like the intrusion of the empathy bond, it will feel as if it's coming from elsewhere. The problem is that it's always there: there is no way of disconnecting, at least for now. The good news is that the serenity will begin to fade within the next day, and with it, the blue glow will go away as well.

All of the Displaced can't remain at the riverside. If they linger too long, it will begin to rain again. The rain itself will only be a light misting against their faces at first, before turning into a heavier downfall. If they're wary of returning to their lives initially because of the blue glow, they'll soon find that the people of New Amsterdam seem to look away from them as they trot through the city to return to their lives. This is a temporary sensation, seeming to have overtaken the city's citizens for the time being. Within a day or two, the blue glow will be met with the same paranoia that was fostered by the UN following the abduction of Kurt Fischer.

What can they do now? Aside from the feeling of serenity, little will have immediately changed for the Displaced. The best thing they can do is try to return to their lives as if Zerzura never happened.

Some things to check in with, though?

WORK. Upon realizing that the Displaced disappeared yet again, El worked overtime to make sure that all of the Displaced wouldn't lose their jobs. After all, that would mean they'd likely have to give up their housing, and Morningstar would need to financially step in to help. Not all of the places of employment will accept these excuses, especially since El can't put together a doctor's note without it promptly being verified as falsified. It's ultimately up to anyone's discretion over whether their character lost their job.

CHANGES. Some of the changes will appear out of nowhere: a dream that's shared, or a memory that's passed on rather unwillingly. It's time to explore what's happened, and even theorize as to why this has happened. And those objects that were the core of remembering who they were, back in Zerzura? They're permanent fixtures from now on. And what about those Union Attacks? For now, they may have an interesting place in the fighting rings. Time to convince the people running those shows to start including doubles matches.

PLANT LIFE. All around New Amsterdam, plants will begin to grow. These plants are varied, and they'll make an appearance anywhere that they might be allowed to grow. Is that a sink that's frequently full of water? Now it's mysteriously stopped up by a plant that's growing through the pipes. While all this plant life may seem like a miracle, having plants growing in every part of the city will quickly prove to be a problem.

HOLIDAY SEASON. The good news about everyone's trip to Zerzura is that they didn't miss Christmas—or rather, the December 25th edition of it. The city is still covered in Christmas trees and ornamentation. The stadium is still hosting a holiday market.

> WINTER SOLSTICE

In the days leading up to the Winter Solstice, there will be an uptick of paintings around New Amsterdam hinting as to where this year's party will be held: Sunpeak Garden. While there won't be any official notice, anyone interested or curious is free to visit this location on the day of the Solstice (December 21st) to see what's going on, and it will go on for the next three days, ending on the morning of the 24th. As they draw closer to the location itself, they'll find the botanical garden secured by a large, overarching tent, preventing rainfall from getting into the garden itself. On the air, there will be the scent of something being smoked—which they'll soon learn is a set of goats that seem to have been acquired by whoever put on this shindig.

Unlike many other events around New Amsterdam, this seems to be more private in nature. There is an unspoken understanding that beyond the paintings, there will be no social media posts. Inside of the garden, there will be a lot of plants and decorations carefully molded into sacred geometric shapes. Despite the unofficial nature, whoever put this event together definitely spent their time doing it. This Solstice party isn't a spontaneous thing, and anyone who goes will hear about the previous parties and how the proprietor does his best to make everyone happy.

Anyone who went to the Harvest Festival or Insomniac's Ball will see a lot of the same people working it, complete with some familiar tattoos. They'll be eager to welcome in any of the Displaced, especially any of the ones who tend to be featured in the shrines around the city.

Once everyone's here, they're welcome to enjoy themselves. Under some of the canopies of trees, there will be beds and futons, giving people places to rest. Some of these will be claimed, so anyone who's eager to stick around for a few days might want to get dibs. Otherwise? It's time to enjoy what's been put together:

FEAST. There will be a feast for the next three days. Aside from the smoked goats, there will be a lot of goat cheese and vegetables. These are the people who put on the harvest festival, after all. There will be a lot of pickled vegetables out on tables, salads, and everything else. Aside from cheese for snacking, anyone can partake in some delicious berries (strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries) and nuts (walnuts, pecans, peanuts, and almonds—despite the difficulty in getting most of these in New Amsterdam). There will also be figs, because of course there are figs.

FLOWER CROWNS. To go with the more laidback flair of this event, there will be flower crowns available for everyone. They will look more Christmas-like in spirit, like small little wreaths to go on everyone's heads.

ALCOHOL. Of course, what kind of Solstice or Yule event would it be without alcohol to imbibe? There will be mulled wine available, as well as the delicious apple-flavored beverage of wassail. It seems as if these two things never run out. For anyone avoiding alcohol, there will also be some sparkling grape juice and apple juice.

PSYCHEDELICS. Undoubtedly also inspired by Yule celebrations of old, anyone can partake in some species-specific (and at a safe dosage) amanita. Primarily available as a tea, anyone can drink this pleasant beverage and have a good time together.

MISTLETOE. There will be spots all around the botanical garden where the decorators took good care to make the mistletoe stand out. Surrounded by little lights, no one will be able to miss them. That means they can be easily avoided, if that's what someone would prefer!

BALL PROPRIETOR. While he's not hiding that he put this on, he's just as mysterious as before. If anyone wants to catch his eye at this event, they can. They'll need to stand out to get him to talk to them. To do this, reply below! Ball will definitely be interested in any Displaced trying to catch his eye, but it's still up to them to go through the motions.

> CHRISTMAS

As the Solstice party comes to an end, it'll be time to focus on Christmas itself. Around New Amsterdam, this is a deeply commercial holiday. Since most of New Amsterdam's citizens prefer to celebrate Sinterklaas, the day of Christmas itself largely emphasizes purchasing access to Christmas movies and giving gifts to anyone who had been forgotten earlier in the month. For new couples, Christmas Eve acts as a romantic occasion, giving them the chance to spend some time alone. Restaurants around the city will have Christmas Eve and Christmas Day specials and feasts—though these will be very expensive to enjoy.

> GRINCH INTERLUDE

Once reports start to hit the news about the rapidly healing atmosphere, a strange cypher begins to appear in the replies of people's posts on Cooltalk. This misfire appears at random and without a pattern. While some of the Displaced will get hit on their Cooltalks, they won't be among the majority by any means. How to get ahold of 100342? A reply might do the trick, or it might not. Drop a message in the questions thread with ideas!

Then again, this message more of a simple response to a slight than anything else, most likely recognizable to the displaced, who are familiar with the cipher's formula:

200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518
200805 02011414051819 1506 200805 11091407 1506 08051212 04180123 031215190518

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome back to the world of New Amsterdam proper, Larkers! This will act as the mingle log for the month of September since we didn't receive any applications this month. In order to plot out some aftermath, please head over to the CR Meme for the month of September! Our September calendar and Event #006 Aftermath are also up for perusing.

If you'd like to get your character in touch with Ball, please reply to the comment below with how they'd like to stand out! Ball, like all of our NPCs, will act as a means to an end to uncover plot details. With the gates excursion on the horizon, we wanted to make him available for all of the playerbase. Due to time constraints, this means that Gaby won't be available for this log.

If you have any questions about event aftermath, please hit the thread on the Aftermath Post here. If you have any questions about this log, go to the questions thread on this post!

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[hierophante]

[OA nods, solemn and sad but without discomfort. The question doesn't bother her. The complete answer to it tends to bother other people: no one back home knew what to do with it. Almost no one. The first one who had, who had inducted her further into the mysteries of what follows life... she'd rather not think about him.]

I did.

[That's the easy part. It's the next part of the subject that's hard to broach. A direct question would probably be easiest, but it isn't the gentlest, and that strange, foreign serenity still infusing OA urges her to be gentle. Her conscience urges her to be gentle.]

It's hard. It's always hard, but I think the first time is hardest of all. You're in the dark until it happens. What will it feel like? Does anything come after, and if so, what does that look like? Bigger questions, sometimes, if there's time -- why now? What do I wish I had done, or hadn't done, or would have had the opportunity to do? Who could I have been if not for this, now?

[Her gaze is fixed forward as she speaks, force of will bearing out this time. It's meant to be a courtesy, a gift of privacy -- whatever Nill is feeling, OA isn't owed insight, badly as she wants it. Perhaps on another day, more or less frayed, but here and now she clings to her scruples as to driftwood, to flotsam. They're keeping her afloat, if only just. They allow her to speak calmly, as though to discuss all of this is the most natural thing in the world. As far as OA is concerned, it should be, but she's not unaware of how controversial that opinion can be, nor how uncomfortable the process can be.

Nill either knows or she doesn't. She's either been here before or she hasn't. OA wants to leave all options open: maybe this isn't the first time her companion has met death, contrary to the implicit assumption she's making in talking about it. If so, she wants to leave herself open to contradiction. Maybe it is. In this eventuality she's a willing audience, even given the relative difficulty of their communication.

Or, equally possible, maybe Nill would prefer not to talk about any of this at all. That possibility is why she follows up, equally casual:]

If you want me to stop, tell me. Sometimes it's hard to look these things in the face. I think we have to, but it's not wrong to be unready.

[Though at this point, do any of them really have a choice?]

[culver]

[Hearing that admission probably shouldn't make her mind feel lighter, but it does. A little. Knowing that she wasn't the only one who went through... whatever kind of dying that was is comforting, in a way. It means they all managed to come out of it alright. It means that maybe there isn't something more wrong with her.

But when OA continues, her stomach drops like a stone. Even though she'd thought herself ready for death, when it had nearly claimed her nearly a year ago now, she had realized she wasn't even close to ready. And she'd been terrified in Zerzura, still not ready--but she hadn't really thought about all the questions OA has just voiced. She'd just been ready to... accept it. There's no running from death, at least not for long in her world. It was just a part of living, and sometimes came faster to some people.

Her gaze slides sideways to her companion when she gives her an out. It would be easy to just stay silent--that's what she's best at. Most of her life has been one long stretch of silence. But that doesn't mean she has to let it keep being that way. She's never talked to anyone about the terrible things that happened to her, because the only people who wanted to know were those she'd call friends. People who would expect one thing or another, who would offer her the one thing she can't bear to have: pity.

She doesn't know anything about this woman except that they'd both just died and come back to life. That makes all the difference in the world.]

I almost died once before.

[She remembers gasping for air, clawing at a stalled mechanical door. Everything had gotten hazy for a while, but the burning in her chest is still vivid.]

I never thought about why I was dying, just that I didn't want to. Not then, not like that.

[A part of her has always expected to come to a violent end, but over the past couple of years that part has shrunk, and she can almost let herself believe now that she'll get to grow old.]

This time I chose it. I don't know what that means.

[hierophante]

[There's another little pause as OA parses, reads, understands. She misses the ease with which Nina could do this -- this and so many other things, an ease OA wouldn't trade for what she knows but which she nonetheless can't help but miss. Still, that's the smaller concern right now. She's accustomed to loss and to turmoil and even to death, and that makes it easy to allow other people's suffering to take precedence.

Her moment of rumination ended, she allows Nill another glance, thoughtful and attentive. It would be all too easy to give the words more attention than they deserve given their less usual method of delivery. OA refuses to allow either of them to forget that the most important thing about what Nill has to say is that it's her that's saying it.]

It means it's for you to decide what it means.

[Her voice is gentle -- this isn't a rebuke. Far from. She means it as encouragement. Nill's inner world is no less important than the one they all agree to agree on.]

But if it would help you to know what I think it means for me, then...

[There's a pause; OA turns her gaze up to the clouds looming forebodingly overhead.]

I think life is a series of cages. I think we're born into one and we move into other ones, and some of them we choose, and some of them we don't. Most of them we don't, most of them we're put in by other people or by circumstance or... some conspiracy of both. Some we're alone in, some we're not.

[The last sentence weighs her down; it comes out of her sounding as weary as she feels. Her shoulders slump, a flicker of sadness crosses her face and then smooths away into something else, another kind of distance, memory and present introspection commingling within her.]

I don't think that's a bad thing, not always. It hurts, not having every choice all the time. It isn't fair. But you can...

[She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, brow furrowing, and shakes her head. Her hands sketch a motion, coming together in a silent collision and then bouncing away again.]

You can throw yourself against the glass until you break or you can realise that the cage gives you your toolset. When you're trapped, the only thing you have to worry about is what's in reach. That's what you have. That's what you use to build your power. Sometimes that means walking into death as a choice, choosing it and what it means and what it stands for.

[Which sounds, perhaps, like a kind of madness. OA can grant that it probably is. It's also how she's survived what she's survived, and what it doesn't sound like is pity.]

That's what I think. Sorry, it's--

[She ducks her head with a self-deprecating laugh.]

I don't know that I have the right words for it. It's not as dismal as it sounds.

[culver]

[She does feel a comfort, of a sort, when OA voices what Nill has been thinking to herself since she realized she was willing to die to give the people of both Zerzura and New Amsterdam a chance to live. She has to decide what that says about her, even if it's something she's been trying to avoid thinking about since she ended up on the ship over two years ago. She's spent so long worrying about herself and the people closest to her that the revelation that her scope of concern has extended so far is a little difficult to accept.

But the comfort is short-lived, because the rest of what OA says is like a punch directly to the gut; Nill knows exactly and intimately what she's talking about.

She always tells people that Heine had saved her--and he had. She surely would have died, or wished she was dead, if he hadn't found her that night. But he'd taken her and dropped her into another prison, one of stained glass and empty pews. She'd been cloistered, and even though she'd told herself countless times that she could leave whenever she wanted, she knew she couldn't. Outside the church was only full of fear and death; inside, there was safety and mind-numbing boredom. Cages could mean horror or sanctuary. It just depended on the light cast on any given situation.

She suddenly and viscerally wishes that she'd met OA before, could have heard her say these words when she'd been younger, uncertain about what having this new life could mean. She'd chosen the path of support, of staying put and doing what she could to help her friends. She'd never done anything for herself. Maybe things would have turned out differently if she had; maybe she could have had an easier time on the ship, could have saved more people. Maybe she wouldn't have shattered so much when Heine left New Amsterdam, and would have been able to resist Zerzura's charm.

Maybe she could have been stronger.

When OA apologizes, Nill automatically holds up a hand to stop her. She doesn't need to say she's sorry. Her thoughts are perfectly valid, and honestly, Nill finds them sort of enlightening in a way she's never experienced before.]

I know what you mean.

[She's never been good with words, even after being able to really use them for two years now. She speaks more with her face than anything else, and right now her expression holds the sort of impossible compassion that only someone who has been through so many kinds of hell and come out the other side can have.]

Thank you. I really think that's going to help me figure things out.

[Because even if she understands a lot of what OA is saying, she isn't yet sure if she knows what it means yet. It's all too fresh, too raw. In a few days, maybe she'll be able to see the picture more clearly and decide for herself what this all means.]

[hierophante]

[OA nods, a sad little smile lighting her face. It's a strange expression - certain and yet vulnerable. She rarely says anything without being certain either of the truth of it or the necessity of saying it in spite of uncertainty, but she knows how the things she says can sound. In spite of all she's experienced, some of it hinted at in the things she's said, there's still a part of her that remembers all too intimately that little girl she once was, the little girl whose too-vivid dreams and whose faith in those dreams earned her thirteen years of heavily-medicated numbness. That part of her still doesn't know what to do with the easy acceptance of others.

It's good. It's good to be understood. It hurts, though, too, to know that someone else has lived a life that allows them to sense the bars. Perhaps literally. It's impossible not to be curious about that, to wonder how much more they have in common.]

It's a process. It's okay that it's a process. More than. It's... something that's yours.

[If they share anywhere near as much as OA is beginning to expect, Nill will understand that too: few things are truly one's own. The ones that are, however difficult -- though providing they don't harm more than they help -- are worth treasuring. The painful, painfully endless process of growth is one of them.

She nods up the street: one of New Amsterdam's hole-in-the-wall, not-quite-fast-food restaurants, dark and a little dismal, is not perhaps the most comfortable place to get out of the rain, but its stark, no doubt slightly sticky tables might serve nonetheless as a temporary sanctuary. If nothing else, the condensation clinging to the windows suggests it's warm inside.]

Do you want to sit awhile?

[Someone else she might ask more directly. Sit with me awhile? Some people find it easier to do themselves a kindness -- to sit somewhere warm, to talk about something difficult with someone who will not judge, to allow themselves a moment a contemplation -- if she makes it seem like it's a favour done to her. It's not really seeming, even: she does take comfort in bringing comfort where she can.

This, though, is different. They've just been talking about cages and about choosing the right ones. OA spares Nill another little sideways glance, a contemplative, hesitant tilt to her head. Cages and choosing.]

And can I-- I'm sorry, you don't have to answer this but I think I have to ask: when you... you said you almost died, before. You didn't... it wasn't a near-death experience, you didn't die and come back, or... go anywhere?

[She gestures vaguely; it's almost impossible to explain in so few words. Either Nill knows or she doesn't. There's a painful sort of hope in her voice, hesitancy notwithstanding -- it comes to the fore when she rephrases the question:]

Are you an angel?

[The word doesn't sound like it might in someone else's mouth. There's no sacred awe -- or not much, anyway; no more than she's carried this entire time. OA doesn't sound like someone speaking of things beyond her. Both her tone and her mannerisms are, on the contrary, instilled with the tentative, half-guilty excitement of someone encountering a stranger in a foreign country and realising they might share one's native language.]

[culver]

[As OA continues to speak, Nill finds that she's able to get back to that feeling of comfort that was so short-lived just moments ago. Hearing someone describe so perfectly what Nill has been living through had been like lancing a wound, but now that it's done, out in the open, now that she's bled a little, she feels better about it. She's never told anyone exactly what had happened to her in her own world; she'd been vague with Laura on the ship, and Tetora had guessed a little when she'd told him she wanted to learn how to use a knife. And here, Riku had actually been there with her, in that horrid building that smelled like despair and carnal things, but she isn't sure how much he's figured out. She doesn't plan to tell OA (even if talking to strangers about some things is easier, going into detail is still too much), but she feels like if she did, she might be inclined not to judge. Because she's right--it is a process, one that Nill just just starting to figure out. And hearing someone tell her as much, tell her that it's okay, gives her a sort of peace she never thought she'd experience.

The blonde nods jerkily, biting the inside of her cheek to try and keep her face smooth. She's feeling so many things right now, it's a little overwhelming; she isn't sure what expression might be on her face if she doesn't reign herself in, and she doesn't want OA to see anything that might make her stop talking.

She makes a beeline for the indicated restaurant, pushing open the door and holding it for OA before sliding into a booth near the back wall. She doesn't want to be near the window, doesn't want to feel like she's on display right now. Which is a good thing, considering what OA asks next. Her brows draw together as she hears what she thinks is hope in her voice, but she doesn't get a chance to address it before the question Nill hears most often leaves OA's lips. She thinks, briefly, that this has become a kind of religious experience--which doesn't make her want to ignore anything OA has said, but it would cast it all in a vastly different light. But no, she doesn't think that's it. Nill, who spent the first part of her thus far short life living in a church, doesn't sense a familiar kind of religious undertone to the question. It's something else, something she can't put her finger on.

Regardless, her answer has to be the same.

Something like an apology flits across her face, and she shakes her head.]

I never saw whatever is after this life. I didn't die that much.

[There's no better way to phrase it. She'd blacked out, her mind had felt all fuzzy--but she'd gotten to oxygen fast enough to stop things there.]

I'm not an angel. I'm just a person with wings.

[hierophante]

[OA follows, sliding into the booth opposite Nill. The response is... unsurprising. She feels it's an incomplete answer, but not because Nill is being intentionally misleading. Her expression registers disappointment, bone-deep weariness, loneliness. None of it is directed at Nill, which she tries to make apparent when she nods.]

No, it's... it's okay.

[She hesitates, brow furrowing with uncertainty, worry. Just a person with wings. That should be enough to explain away the question, but would it be fair to simply allow it to be explained away? OA isn't responsible for the kinds of assumptions other people might make, but Nill is not an enemy. In a way she isn't even a stranger.

Her gaze falls to the table between them, to her own folded hands resting lightly against its surface.]

I thought maybe you were like me.

[Those folded hands shift, idle fidgeting betraying the nervousness OA tries not to show on her face when she looks up to meet Nill's gaze again. There's something else there in its place -- earnestness, solemnity, and fear in the width of her eyes, the set of her mouth just shy of grim. She means what she's about to say. It's true; the truth of it strengthens her spine and inclines her head ever so slightly -- a reflexive defiance, because she also knows that devoid of context it's almost impossible to accept. A little easier if she looks the part, if she rises into her own strangeness, if she projects her own certainty in the truth of it.]

That's why I had to ask, because I did. And I am. I know--

[Her defiance, the vague impression of grace, such as it was, fades, leaving wryness in its wake. It's not gone -- it never is; OA couldn't disguise her strangeness if she wanted to. But she is also human. She is also, in a less literal way, just a person with wings.]

I do know how that sounds. I can't ask you to believe me. But I can say it's nothing to be afraid of.

[Death? What she is, the details of which she's still figuring out herself? Both. OA doesn't know it, doesn't have the context to know it, but perhaps simply saying that is the best evidence of all. What do angels say to prophets? Nolite timere. Μὴ φοβεῖσθε. Fear not.]